Where You Are
by Ms-Maggs
Summary: Working a brutal case left Greg and Sara shaken until Nick and Grissom intervened. A blend of drama, romance and humor with character backstory and relationship details. Pairings Nick & Greg and GSR are the focus. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1: Moving Out

**Where You Are**

**Written By:** **Ms Maggs ****/ Edited By: KJT**

**AN:** This story is independent of my CSI Series featured on my website. It was written to purge a plot bunny that sprung after watching _Empty Eyes, _but it doesn't contain any spoilers beyond that episode. It starts off angsty because the episode was, but like most other stuff I've written, a **hefty **dose of humor will compliment any drama.

**Summary:** Working a brutal case left Greg and Sara shaken until Nick and Grissom intervened. A blend of drama and humor with character backstory and relationship details. G&S, N&G and some team stuff too. CSI w shades of When Harry Met Sally & The Odd Couple comedy. Please do NOT expect overnight character development. This is a 32 chapter story and the characters you meet in Chapter 1, will not be the same people at the end. They'll develop over time. I like to introduce a character and peel back their layers. I like to write people hiding behind bravado, jokes and brave faces, and as time goes by that's stripped away and replaced. I enjoy making a character unlikeable or misunderstood and then turning that completely around. There is always much more to my characters than what you see in the beginning)

**Warnings:** T rated 1-23, M rated after that. A bad word or two, but nothing you don't hear at the mall. There will be no NC-17 graphic sex or violence in this story at any time, and no character deaths.

**Parings:** GSR, Nick and Greg. Could there be more than friendship in one guy's mind or both? If you're on the fence about reading a slash story, please know that dozens of readers who never thought they'd enjoy a slash story or Nick and Greg as a couple, LOVED this story. They've left reviews saying as much. So, if you ever wanted to give a story where one or both of the guys had slashy feelings, this could be a great start! I've worked very hard to write a tasteful, belivable, funny, romantic progression that tugs on heartstrings. : )

**Thank you for reading, we hope you enjoy.**

**Prologue**

Greg arrived at the crime scene with knots in his stomach.

"Dammit." It was a familiar feeling, this sickness building inside him. He was beginning to think it was permanent. He was beginning to think a lot of alarming things, like maybe it was time to quit his job, leave Vegas, and walk away from the small life he had been carving for himself for nearly a decade. But where does a guy go to flee the nightmares in his head?

Realizing it wasn't a matter of logistics, he tried escaping with drugs. First the legal ones the psychiatrist had prescribed after the beating, but when those pills left him flat, he made a switch. An abuser in college, he had no difficulty acquiring or using the right stuff on the sly. It was working too, but then a departmental memo reviewing LVPD's random drug testing policy reminded him that self-medication could cost him the career he loved. So, after tacking the memo on his fridge, he quit cold turkey, just like he had one morning at Stanford a lifetime ago.

Next up was booze, but even though it was legal, and a favored choice by many of LVPD's finest, it quickly lost its appeal.

Greg had never really enjoyed drinking himself into unconsciousness. Honestly, as wimpy as it sounded, he hated the vomiting that accompanied his binge drinking. He hated vomiting so much, that even as a teen he didn't mind his mother sitting with him in the bathroom when got sick. Afterwards, he could always count on her soothing him with a steady palm to his back, a sparkling glass of Ginger Ale, and a smile. He couldn't imagine the level of harassment he would get from the guys if they ever discovered that nugget of unparalleled patheticness, not that he ever had a reputation as a tough guy…and certainly not after the ass-kicking.

Every time he went into the field, the cops took great joy in laughing at the stupid CSI who couldn't escape a beating even though he had been sitting in a drivable truck with functioning locks. There were a few exceptions, a handful of cops who had praised him for what he had done, but not many. It was official, he was village idiot and life sucked.

When asked during his last PEAP session if he had contemplated suicide since the devastating event, Greg quickly gave the right answer, 'never', but in all honesty he had not only considered it, but tried it twice. Not recently, not over the current drama in his life, and they were meager attempts, if you could even call them attempts. If pressed for an exact description, the Stanford scholar would opt for a heady explanation, something like 'they were merely flirtations with the concept of dying brought on by severe moments of personal insecurity'. In short, there were a couple of times back in college when he just wasn't sure he could cope with the insurmountable bullshit in his life. Now that he thought about it, his present state of mind was starting to remind him of those dark slices of his past.

_Not good!_ a little voice cried out. _You should tell someone, particularly someone who gives a rat's ass._ He immediately ruled out his psychiatrist, his PEAP counselor, and Grissom. All three, while well meaning, had been useless thus far. In all fairness, Greg recognized that therapy, counseling sessions, and one-on-ones with his boss would probably be of greater value if he didn't spend the time lying to the people who were conducting them.

_Duh!_

Just shut up and let me do my job, he silently snapped.

_Isn't it hard to do your job when you're standing frozen in the living room and the dead bodies are upstairs? Give it up, Sanders. You're done. _

Ignoring the shrew's unsolicited opinion, he took a few steps across the wood floor, which unfortunately proved to be enough distance to catch the stench of death wafting down the stairs. "Dammit."

"Keep walkin', tough guy." Poised at the top of the stairs, Nick had heard a creak in the floorboards below.

It was hard to wuss out around a guy who had been buried alive with a loaded gun and lived to tell the tale. "Coming."

Nick measured the bloody footprint. "Looks like he was about a size eleven."

After three steps, Greg froze again. "You been up there yet?" He lifted his gaze, hoping a look of confidence from the invincible Texan would propel him the rest of the way.

Sensing his buddy needed a little extra prodding, Nick stopped processing and peered around the staircase's rails. He nodded, because he couldn't think of any words that were going to make it better and unlike Greg, he wasn't much of a talker in these situations.

Greg saw two choices. He could firmly plant his tail between his legs and run screaming from the house of horrors like the wimp everyone believed he was, or he could get his ass up the stairs.

"Good choice," Nick said with a dash of pride when his buddy took a step in the right direction.

"Yeah."

"Hey." Nick glanced up from the bloody print. "Head to the last bedroom on the left, it's the lesser of two evils…but not by much."

"I'll keep it together."

Nick returned to his task. "I know you will."

Greg took a steadying breath and headed down the hall, but not before telling the little voice inside his head to back off, because he wouldn't be throwing in the towel…at least not today.

* * *

The crisp night air was exactly what Sara needed. 

"Dammit." It was a familiar feeling, this sickness building inside her. She was beginning to think it was permanent. She was beginning to think a lot of alarming things, like maybe it was time to quit her job, take up a hobby, and try cohabitation. But how does an independent woman who spent the majority of her life proving she didn't need anyone, admit she wanted someone to come home to every night?

She doesn't, at least not without a fight.

Grissom presented the key without romantic trappings. He simply placed it on his kitchen counter one evening in between stirs of the vegetarian tortilla soup he was making for dinner, and said 'I thought you might want to move in with me, so I made you this'. As he returned to stirring the pot, Sara stared at the life-altering object before her. "Oh." Eventually, she inarticulately declined, overtalking the issue all the way from soup to dessert. At the end of her barely coherent ramblings, he said 'The lady doth protest too much. 'You could have just said "no, thanks"'. That's when she realized he had misunderstood her two hour explanation.

While the relationship had been everything she had dreamed and more, she wasn't ready to lose her address or identity. As a girl who had been displaced from her home as a child, the proposition was a big deal. Moving into someone else's home meant giving someone power over her future. She saw it as a matter of control, he saw it as a matter of trust. Long story short, they argued, and he went on sabbatical. It was right about then that Sara began hating her apartment…her big, lonely apartment full of stuff and not Grissom.

Much to her surprise, while Grissom was away, Sara discovered that she had already given someone the power over her future. She had given it to him, even though she had never verbalized it or put it in writing. Her heart belonged to him. She didn't know when it happened, but if pressed, she'd say it was the first time Grissom held her in his arms as she cried. After decades of shedding tears on the sly, having a partner in sorrow felt unbelievably right. She missed him terribly.

Then he sent her a cocoon.

A cocoon and no note. _Who sends a woman a cocoon without a note_ she grumbled in the empty locker room. _Grissom_. She planned on being mad at him when he returned two weeks later, but never mustered the strength. Instead they picked up right where they left off, and once again began stealing moments of happiness on the nights they weren't doing their emotionally draining jobs.

They were supposed to be having a relaxing night right now, but instead they were processing six dead bodies, all women killed far before their prime. One girl died holding her hand. All six had their throats slashed just like her father. To say it was a rough night was an understatement.

"Shit!" Bending over, Sara vomited next to a bush. Normally she would have run off property, but the place was huge and the spasm too powerful to delay. By the third round she was certain every ounce of the Black Bean Burrito she had shoved down her throat earlier was purged and she breathed in a fresh batch of air.

"They had Sprite in the fridge." Grissom popped the tab. "I'll replace the can," he said out of habit. It was department policy, but he really doubted the family members of the six dead girls would hassle the County over a missing can of Sprite.

"Thanks." She took the soda and wondered how he had known where to find her and how to help. He just knew. He was Grissom. "I want the key," she whispered with all the vulnerability that she had taken such care to mask when he had offered it. "That is…if you still want me to have it." She sipped the Sprite to avoid the usual overtalking.

Without a word, Grissom reached into his pocket to retrieve the key, took Sara's hand, and pressed the life-altering object into her palm. "David's waiting, I have to get back inside. We'll work out the logistics later."

Sara wrapped her hand around the key to her future and watched Grissom slip inside the house. "Okay." Lost in thought, the hoot of a barn owl startled her, and when she tracked it, she saw Greg standing in one of the bedroom windows. Had he seen? Did he know? Was he jealous?

Waving to her friend, she spoke as if he could hear her. "I'll be right there."

* * *

**Chapter 1**

"Griss!" Nick hustled out of the building to catch his boss.

"I have an appointment." The movers were scheduled to arrive at Sara's apartment in twenty. "I can give you two minutes."

"It's about Greg." Nick lowered his voice when he saw a group of officers congregating two cars away. "He's called out sick every day since you told him about the settlement. I talked to him last night. I know he's not sick, he's hiding."

"I can't force him to work."

"I was thinkin' if you went and saw him, gave him some encouragement... It would mean a lot comin' from you if you actually went…."

"I already told him that politics are a part of the job and advised him to let it go. Beyond that…" Grissom shrugged, "I can't help him get over it, Nicky. Only he can. You know that from personal experience, don't you?"

"I just think if you made the effort to…"

"I'm sorry, I really have to go."

"Yeah, okay." Nick rolled his eyes as Grissom unlocked his car. "Have a good day off, man." Walking away he muttered, "Sofia threatens to quit and you wine and dine her 'til she agrees to stay. Lady Heather gets in trouble with the law and you run all over town tryin' to help her. Sara gets suspended and you run to her apartment, she sheds a few tears in the breakroom and you give her a ride home. And people say I'm a ladies man. Pfft."

Fishing out his keys, he headed for his truck.

* * *

Watching for the moving truck from the window of her soon-to-be ex-apartment, Sara felt a steady blend of excitement and anxiety. It had only been three days since she accepted Grissom's key, but it felt like she had been planning and packing for months. 

Glancing around the room, she couldn't believe she got the whole place boxed in such a short amount of time. It helped that she hadn't been sleeping. Still haunted by the memories of holding Cami's and the killer's hands, Sara's attempts at peaceful slumber kept morphing into nightmares. It didn't help that she already had a plethora of long-existing nightmares to cope with when the new ones arrived that week. She hoped having someone consistently sleeping next to her would alleviate the problem, but common sense told her it would be a little more complicated than that.

But what if it doesn't work out? The question came just as Grissom's car pulled into the parking lot. It was a good question, and staring at the sea of boxes, she panicked. For the first time in her life, she was jumping without a parachute. _What the hell was I thinking?!_

Grissom's knock at the door sent her heart racing, but not in a gushy romantic way, in more of a 'full-blown panic-attack, does anyone have a brown paper bag that I can use so I don't hyperventilate' way.

It was a defining moment. Clearly, she was about to make either the best or the worst move of her life.

"Sara!" Grissom knocked harder the second time. "Open up, I have food."

"Hey." Standing in the open doorway, she hoped she didn't look panicked.

"Honey, are you okay? You look like you're going to vomit."

* * *

"Greggo!" Nick knocked harder the second time. "Open up, I have food." 

"Hey." Standing in the doorway in boxers and a rumpled t-shirt, Greg coughed into his fist and sniffled twice, hoping he looked sick enough.

"When I hated fourth grade, I came up with this great cough and sniffle combo, much better than that bullshit you just laid on me. Mom fell for it every time. You don't have nearly enough phlegm to make yours believable." He dangled the bag of breakfast burritos. "I sure hope you don't have a fake tummy ache too, because I bought your favorite breakfast." He pushed his buddy aside and entered the apartment he had only visited a half dozen times over the years.

"I really…" Greg lowered his head as Nick breezed into the apartment. "Sure, come on in, I'd love some company."

"What the hell, man?" Nick walked through the rows of boxes shaking his head. "You weren't gonna say anything?"

"Yeah, I was going to say something. I planned on stopping by and telling everyone in person tomorrow. I need to clear out my locker and stuff too." Figuring his uninvited guest wouldn't be leaving any time soon, he shut the door.

"So that's it." Nick tossed the brown bag on the kitchen counter. "You're just gonna give up. All because some talking heads were too lazy to go to trial and decided to write a check?"

"**A 2.5 million dollar check** to the family of a guy who was beating an innocent man to death. They didn't support me. After all the blood, sweat and tears I've given the County, they threw me under the bus. After I **risked my life** to save an innocent bystander. Do you have any idea how insulting that is?"

"Yeah, I'd say it's right up there with the County not payin' a dime in ransom money to save my ass when I got abducted on the job." Nick flashed a cocky smile. "But I didn't come home from the hospital and pack any boxes now did I?"

"No, you didn't, Mr. Incredible, but you didn't kill a guy either, now did you? And you didn't have a dead guy's mother screaming in your face and going on every TV station calling you a murderer!" Greg flashed to rage, "And you didn't have a certain portion of the community calling for your fucking head on a platter! See, it's not quite apples to oranges, so how about stopping the bullshit comparisons!" Shaking, he opened the door. "Take your burritos and your superhero bravado and get the hell out of my apartment! Now, please!"

"I'm sorry. You're right." Sincerity flooded Nick's voice, "You're absolutely right. There's a world of difference."

"Thank you!" Greg pointed to the open door. "Buh bye."

Instead of leaving, Nick took a seat at the kitchen counter. "Hey, it's a good thing I brought burritos instead of omelets, huh, 'cause you probably packed your forks."

After releasing a guttural scream, Greg gave up and shut the front door.

"You got any Cholula in your fridge by any chance? This place never makes 'em spicy enough for me."

"Let me check." Greg huffed over to the fridge and whipped open the door. "Will Tabasco do?"

"Sure, if that's all you got." When his reluctant host slammed the bottle on the counter he laughed. "I really liked how you remembered to say 'please' when you were throwin' my ass out. I'm not used to gettin' kicked out with manners. The chicks I piss off cuss like sailors and throw shoes at my head."

"I find that incredibly easy to believe." Greg relented to his hunger and grabbed a burrito from the bag. "If you can't evict him, join him." He dropped onto the unoccupied bar stool across from Nick.

"Hey, for givin' you shit, I'll help you unpack your boxes."

"No need." Greg peeled back the foil to reveal the burrito. "I'm still moving."

"You're **seriously** gonna walk away from eight years at the lab and all that work you did to get into the field, just because you're feelin' some heat at the moment? As soon as the next scandal breaks in this town, you'll be yesterday's news. We just need another supersized diaper-wearin' millionaire freak to take a nose dive off a balcony or some shit like that and everyone will be goin' 'Greg Sanders who?' Think about it, look how everyone was wrapped up in Mickey Dunn's reappearance or Sam Braun's death. Scandals come and go, but careers don't." When he heard nothing, he pushed, "Come on, Greg…you have somethin' good goin' on here, are you sure you want to walk away from it?"

After staring at Nick for a moment, he quietly replied, "I don't want to leave."

"Good." Nick dove into the paper sack for a second burrito. "I knew I was right."

"I said I don't want to, but I still am. I gave up the place, the landlord already rented it, and…" Greg set down his burrito. "I'm gonna get serious here for a second, so don't razz me, okay?"

"Okay." Nick gave a reassuring nod. "I won't."

"I'm not doing well. I'm not sleeping. Before this breakfast, I don't remember the last thing I ate. I've been drinking too." He decided to omit confessions of drug use and clinical depression. "I don't want to leave. I want to suck it up and show up for work like you did, covered in ant bites and saying it was no big deal, but I'm not you. I'm not…" He dropped his gaze to the floor. "I'm having nightmares, I'm hearing noises and imagining thugs are following me. I'm messed up. I don't know how you shook off your drama. I give you credit I can't."

"You fake it 'til you make it, buddy. That's the trick. I wasn't okay, not by a long shot. You see thugs, I saw bugs, bugs everywhere, man." He shuddered thinking about it. "I felt them crawlin' on my skin. If I saw one for real, I jumped. I kept thinkin' people were watchin' me, sneakin' up behind me. And let's not even talk about confined spaces or goin' underground. You know that day we were processin' that cult mass suicide? I just about peed my pants going down in that tunnel. It's all part of the deal, the PTSD. I'm not better than you, Greg, I'm just better at fakin' it. Like the cough/sneeze thing. You suck at it, I'm good." He demonstrated his fake flu symptoms. "See what I mean?"

Breaking into a smile, Greg said, "That was really convincing actually."

"I told ya. Between growin' up in my hyper-perfectionist family, the abuse thing when I was a kid, playin' football, bein' a cop, and surviving in this town, I started fakin' shit and coverin' my thoughts at the ripe age of two and kept on goin'." He grabbed his burrito. "I've got mad skills. Sometimes I don't even know when I'm fakin'."

"Yeah, okay, but how does faking it in public prevent you from having a nervous breakdown when you get home?"

"Who says I don't have a nervous breakdown when I get home?" Nick laughed. "That's where booze, babes, and basketball come in. I release some aggression, let it build, then release it again. Your problem is you don't play sports or date."

"I date. Just not often. It's the genius thing, it intimidates women."

"Is that it? Here I was thinkin' it was your fucked up hair."

"Well, not everyone can get away with a porn stache phase."

"Oh yeah! Greg's back!" Happy to see his buddy laughing again, Nick headed for the fridge. "What kind of beer do you have?"

"It's nine am."

"I work nights! This is my happy hour, yours too." The disappointed guest grabbed a Corona Light. "Queer beer it is." He grabbed two.

"I think there's a lime left."

Nick returned to his stool rolling his eyes. "Tough guy lesson number one…real men don't put a** lime** in their queer beer."

"Too bad I packed my pens, now I can't write down that gem."

"I have an idea." Nick wiped his mouth before grabbing his beer. "I'm light on funds and you're in need of a place to live. My townhouse has two master suites. You can rent the empty one from me and I'll use the cash to pay my mortgage. I had a top notch security system installed after the kidnapping, I have video surveillance, the works. That should help you feel safer too, doncha think?"

"For real?"

Nick dove into his pocket for his keys. "Here." He pulled a spare off the ring. "Eight hundred a month, split the utilities, sound fair?"

"More than fair," Greg replied, as his smile filled the room.

"Okay then." Nick slapped the key in Greg's palm. "There's a U-Haul place just around the corner, I'll go see if they have a truck for rent."

* * *

"Rent?" Grissom stared blankly. 

"Right, you own the place. What's your mortgage payment?" Sara asked ask her new roommate as they sat in the townhouse waiting for the movers. "We'll calculate half."

"I don't have a mortgage payment either, I own it free and clear."

"Wow." Glancing around she joked, "Are you taking payouts or something? Because the last time I checked the County payscale, a supervisor's salary wasn't that good."

"With age comes wisdom," he boasted. "I've made a few good investments over the years."

"Ah." Taking a seat on the couch where Grissom had made his first bold move months earlier, she said, "We'll split the utilities and the groceries."

He laughed without thinking, "I'm not your college dorm mate, Sara. I'm…"

"Yeah, that brings up a good point. What are you…exactly?"

"I'm your…" Come to think of it, they never had labeled it. "I'm your significant other, right? Assuming you feel a certain level of significance between us."

"I did between the sheets last night." She would never get tired of the way her sex jokes ruffled him. "Significant other, huh?"

"Think you can deal with that?"

"It sounds a little dependent to me, but yeah, I think I can hang with it."

A knock on the door startled them both.

Grissom saw the truck from the window. "Movers are here."

"Great."Sara pushed off the couch sporting an anxious smile.

Sure, they didn't know if it would work out, but sometimes you just have to take the story of your life one chapter at time, and not dwell on the promise of a happy ending.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2: Moving In

**Where You Are**

**Written By:** **Ms Maggs / Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 2 – Moving In**

"How are we going to fit all of this stuff into your townhouse?" Greg asked while staring into the back of the packed truck. "When did I get all this stuff?" It seemed like it only yesterday that he had arrived in Vegas with a couple of duffel bags and a ton of books.

"I know exactly where your sixty-three inch flat screen plasma HDTV is goin'." Nick winked at his buddy before climbing into the truck. "Right where my old thirty-five inch is sittin' in my living room." He grabbed the first box. "Too bad it's not football season, because I'd love to kickback and watch A&M on that thing."

"A ha! So that's the real reason you asked me to move in." Smiling, Greg took the first box from his new housemate's hands. "That's okay. At least I know I have a place to live until after the next Super Bowl."

"Provided your crazy music and slob habits don't piss me off, yeah." The few times he had been at his buddy's apartment over the years it was a mess of dirty dishes, strewn clothes, reading material, and cereal boxes. "But we'll review the house rules later and if you follow them, there shouldn't be any problems."

"Remember, I was raised by California Liberals, not Texas Conservatives. Things were probably a little more laid back in my childhood home than yours."

"I don't doubt that." When Nick had moved enough boxes to free the hand cart, he lowered it out of the truck. "Every Sunday, we spent the mornin' in church, the afternoon as a family, and the evening around the table. After supper, my mother would present the master schedule and chore list for the week and we'd review it as a group. That list got tacked on the fridge and we stuck to it. Every Friday night, my father would evaluate our performance and if you had messed up or missed somethin', you were excluded from all the Saturday fun and sports if you played 'em."

Their unloading and stacking pace picked up as they streamlined the process.

"So, growing up in Dallas, your parents only allowed fun on Saturdays?" It was a startling concept, since joy had been permitted seven days a week in Santa Gabriel. "What if you were in a great mood on a Tuesday?"

Nick chuckled, "You kept it to yourself. Honestly with all the schoolwork, sports and chores, we were too tired for fun Monday through Friday anyway."

"I guess that explains your hardcore work ethic."

"What did you California slackers do all week? Eat tofu, smoke pot, and sun bathe naked?"

"Only on Sundays."

After sharing a laugh, Nick said, "Your parents seemed real nice when I met them at the hospital. Anxious and overprotective, but considerin' the circumstances, I can't blame them."

"Yeah, Jan and Dave Sanders were just _a little_ over the top." The memory of his sobbing mother dropping to her knees and begging him to quit his job in front of his friends came to mind. "And everyone thinks Norwegians are an emotionally reserved people."

"Hey, my parents were nothin' like their normal selves when they were at my side after I was rescued." The image of his father crying over him in the ER still haunted him. "That was the most emotion I had seen from my father in my entire lifetime combined. And my mother…I thought she was going to stroke out right there in the ER. Thanks to Catherine's big mouth, they weren't only freaked over me almost dyin', they were dealin' with the news I had been molested as a kid and beatin' themselves up over that."

"In all fairness, Catherine only blurted the secret to us because she was stressed to the max over you being buried alive and was sure you were going to die. The context was that she felt bad that you had so many crappy things happen in your lifetime, and was rattling them off."

"Thankfully she didn't know about the time I got pantsed in junior high." Nick paused to wipe the first beads of sweat off his forehead. "Hell, I couldn't be mad at her though, not after I found out that she got Big Daddy Braun to cough up the million dollar ransom."

Trying to lighten the mood, Greg said, "You know what her blurting out your secret reminded me of? That scene in the movie Almost Famous, the one when their little plane is about to crash because they hit a storm."

"I love that movie, man."

"I have the DVD."

"Cool." Nick teased, "We can watch it on **our** plasma TV."

"I'm never getting my TV back, am I?"

"Nope."

After another laugh, Greg resumed his point, "So in that scene, remember how they're telling all their deepest, darkest secrets and confessions and just after the last guy yells out '**I'm gay!'** the storm passes and the plane evens out? He's like 'shit, I **never **would have said that if I knew we'd all be around tomorrow to deal with it?" While waiting for Nick to pull more boxes, he leaned against the stack he had made. "That was Catherine in the hospital waiting area once we got word you would be fine. She grabs her hair and yells, '**Dammit!** Nicky's gonna kill me for telling everyone his secret!' For a second it seemed like she was wishing you had died, just so she wouldn't have to deal with you being pissed at her. Warrick's like 'what the hell, Cath?' and she trips all over herself explaining what she really meant."

"Well, we all know Cath is a little self-centered."

"It was a **great** moment." Greg's smile spread as the memory played in his mind. "We hadn't smiled or laughed the whole time we were looking for you…obviously. There we were maxed out from exhaustion and nervous tension, when all of a sudden we're laughing our asses off at Cath's expense. We were totally ragging on her. Seriously, we didn't stop until we were crying from laughing so hard. Brass wet himself." Watching his buddy grab another box, he nostalgically said, "An hour earlier we were at rock bottom, but just like that…life was good again."

"Hearin' about the fun y'all were having, I'm sorry I missed it." Nick jumped down from the truck, so he could run inside and grab some beer. "While you guys were laughin' it up, I was on an exam table listenin' to my parents bawl while ten nurses and doctors probed my naked body for ants and treated my bites."

"Hey, take out the bawling parents, and you just described one of Grissom's biggest fantasies."

* * *

"How are we going to fit all of this stuff into your townhouse?" Sara asked, staring into the back of the packed truck. "I can't believe all of this is mine." It seemed like it only yesterday that she had arrived in Vegas with a couple of suitcases and a ton of books. 

"I'll leave it up to you to decide," Gil answered, believing it was the correct answer to give his Significant Other. Having read many books on successful male-female relationships, he knew that women wanted to feel their opinion was valued. They wanted to have power.

"Why only me?" Sara quizzed, concerned that her Significant Other's lack of an opinion meant that he wasn't taking the endeavor as seriously as her. "Why don't you care where my things go? Or your things for that matter, assuming that I might choose to replace your things with some of mine. Like your ugly couch for example."

"Uh." After clearing his throat to stall, he explained, "I care. I care a lot. I just thought it was the gentlemanly thing to do in this situation."

"The gentlemanly thing to do?" Sara tried not to laugh, but promptly failed. "Did I ride over here in your truck or a time machine? What's next? Calling me your 'Little Woman'?"

"Sara…"

"I know **that** tone."

"**That **tone?" He cocked his head. "What tone is that?"

"You say my name with this lilt. This lilt that screams 'you are frustrating me Ms. Sidle'. It's…very…."

_Please don't say paternal._ He sucked in his gut and hoped his hair looked less grey in the sunlight.

"Professorial." She pursed her lips so she wouldn't fully snicker.

Gil tapped his watch. "The movers will be returning from their break in five minutes."

"So we have five minutes to resolve how we're going to blend my stuff with yours."

"Considering our educational backgrounds and our years of experience problem solving on the job, I think we're more than qualified." He removed his sunglasses to glare. "And since you've already established that my couch is **ugly**, that's a no-brainer."

"Come on…it's ugly. Honestly, it's fugly."

"That fugly couch is sentimental." Placing his hands on his ball-busting mate, he reminded her. "We shared our first kiss on that couch."

"We did not," she huffed, "Our first kiss was in your kitchen, by the fridge."

"No, that was the first intentional kiss. Don't you remember our first **accidental **kiss? It was a week after Nicky's abduction and we decided to work at my place because…"

"You mean after Nick almost died and you were going through a 'life's too short, but I **still** can't tell Sara that I want her' stage, so you kept making work-related excuses to spend time together?"

"Yes, and let's remember to discuss the statute of limitations on my emotional dysfunctionality later." Sliding his hands to her hips, he finished detailing the memory, "We were sitting on my couch working the Peggy Martin case and I needed a pen…"

"Right, right." Recalling it vividly, she began chuckling. "I turned around to hand you one just as you leaned over to grab one and my eyebrow crashed into your parted lips. It was an eyebrow kiss."

"When I pulled away, my glasses got caught in your hair."

"And I was so flustered by your proximity, that I spilled the glass of ice water I was holding all over my white blouse."

A naughty smirk took over his lips. "I needed a cigarette after that incident. It was the closest thing to sex I'd had in a while."

"And yet we **still **didn't get it on that night. Do you know why?"

"Because I was an idiot."

"Well, yes, but also because your fugly couch was romantically uninspiring." As their lips grazed, she whispered, "Mmm…after this kiss, I'll tell you all about my grudge against your coffee table."

Out of the corner of his eye, Gil saw his craziest neighbor on approach and braced for impact.

"How's my favorite Bug Doctor!" Seventy-two year old retired Vegas showgirl, Lana Weiss, a chain-smoking, prune with a penchant for showing her ample cleavage, came rushing over. "What's this I see? Is this a moving truck? What's with the truck? Is this your cute **young** girlfriend? Is she moving in with you? Good for you! Good…for…you Dr. G." She glanced over at the shell-shocked girl and took a puff on her cigarette. "What's with the gaping, Sweetie? Oh, I know what you're thinking. You're trying to decide if they're fakies. They're not. Have a touch."

Sara recoiled as the lunatic thrust her chest out. "That's okay, I believe you. Whoever you are." She turned to Gil. "Who is she?"

"Sara Sidle, this is Lana Weiss, she lives four doors down from me…**us** now, actually." He loved how 'us' rolled off his tongue. "Ms. Weiss and I see each other at the mailbox frequently." _Because she stalks her neighbors and follows them there, jabbering incessantly and leaving a smoke trail. _"From time to time she also stops by to borrow milk for her cats. 2 milk to be exact."

While thinking they should get a P.O. Box so they could avoid trips to the complex's mailbox, Sara forced a smile. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Weiss."

"Like wise." After blowing out the smoke in her mouth, she smacked her lips and said, "Have fun shacking up, kids, I'd talk longer but Mr. Keegal in 7B is waiting to give me a bikini wax." As she sashayed away, she giggled, "Good move getting a chippie, Dr. G, she'll keep you young! When I get back from my Brazilian, I'll drop off some Viagra from my secret stash. I keep it on hand for my boys. It'll be my way of saying thanks for all those times I've borrowed milk for my kitties!"

The mortified Levitra user craftily answered, "No thank you, I don't use Viagra."

"That's what they all say," she cackled while lighting up her next ciggie.

When they were alone again, Sara calmly told her man, "I have a great idea. Instead of unpacking my stuff, let's just get another truck for your stuff and buy a house with barbed-wire fence around the perimeter. That way I won't have to worry about the neighbors running over, shoving their fake-bake boobs in my face, and begging me to cop a feel."

* * *

"Oh Lord, here she comes." Nick cringed when he saw Tish Taylor, a thirty-two year old washed up showgirl turned cocktail waitress who had actively been trying to jump his bones for years. "Set down the mattress. If we continue inside, she'll just follow us. Let me handle this." 

"Are those real?" Greg queried as the non-jiggling jumbo boobs mesmerized him.

"Hell, the only part of her that's real is her psychosis."

"Nick!" Fluffing her dyed strawberry blonde hair and C+ fakies, Tish hurried down the sidewalk as fast as her leopard-print stilettos would carry her. "No! You can't be moving out."

"I'm not."

"Thank you, Jesus!" she screamed to the heavens while clutching her head. "I saw you moving this mattress and I panicked. This complex wouldn't be the same without you, Cowboy." She pouted and thrust out her boobs. "I'd miss ya somethin' awful. You and me have been playing cat and mouse since the day I moved in and one of these days, Mister Sexy CSI Who Survived Being Buried Alive and Being Bitten by Big Bad Ants, I'm gonna catch you and the rest will be **history**!" She circled her arms around the sexy man's neck. "Come on, Nicky, when are you going to let TishaBaby cook you a cowboy meal? You must get homesick for the Lone Star state. I'll make you a juicy steak with **ranch **beans and **Texas** Toast on the side. Hmm? How about tonight? You're going to work up an appetite moving all this heavy stuff. Hey!" She gave him a playful shove. "You **still** haven't told me why you're moving this mattress!"

Watching Nick squirm out of the lunatic's reach, Greg had to cover his mouth to stifle his laughter.

"My co-worker Greg over there." He pointed. "He's movin' in with me for a while. He was hurt real bad in the line of duty and is having **severe** mental problems."

"Aww, is that why he looks so…confuzzled?"

_Confuzzled?_ "I'm not really…" But when Nick gave him the 'be quiet or I'll kill you' glare he often used in the field, Greg shut up.

"Since I've successfully recovered from being buried alive, they've assigned me to be his peer-counselor. Unfortunately, I'm not allowed to leave his side. It's part of the LVPD code, helpin' a brother in need, so I hafta do my civic duty and tough it out, no matter how much it cramps my lifestyle."

"Aww." Tish teetered over to the guy wearing a funny t-shirt and bowling shoes. "You poor thing. Let Tish give you a squish." She felt bad for Nick too, because it had be rough for a Texas stud to be forced to live with a geeky gay guy.

"Uh, you don't hav…" Greg's words were cut off when she brought his face to her buxom breasts. _She tastes like crayons, but I doubt she's non-toxic. _

"Hey! I'll cook for both of you! Your little friend can watch a non-stressful Disney movie after dinner and I'll give my favorite hard working LVPD guy a massage. Have I told you that I got a certificate from an online massage school?"

"A bunch of times, yeah. While it's a really nice offer, Tish, poor Greg can't eat anything but his regulated diet." Nick stepped in back of his buddy and pulled him away from the shameless hoochie. Placing his arm around Greg's shoulders he explained, "He has to watch what he eats because certain foods interact with his meds. He also gets real stressed out around other people. Isn't that right, G?"

"People freak me out!" Greg yelled like half-witted psycho. "I'm a donkey on the edge! Do you have any Cheez-Whiz? I want Cheeeeeeeeeeez-Whiz!"

Tish backed off, trying not to show her disdain for short-bus riders in case her lack of compassion for retards might ruin her chances of marrying Nick one day.

"Greg's mom is gonna come out here to babysit him in a couple of…years…and when she does, we'll hook up, Sweetheart. That is if you'll wait for me to finish my charity work."

"As long as there's stars over Texas, Cowboy…I'll hang the moon for you."

"Thank ya, Darlin'." _Ugh! Why'd she have to go and ruin that song for me? I love that song. _"Hey, don't you have to get to work, Tish?"

"Ooh!" She nodded and started running. "See ya later, Cowboy! I hope your little mental friend feels better soon!"

Sniffing the air, Nick asked, "You smell that, Greggo? That's desperation. Like a skunk in the night, she leaves her scent behind."

"Ha!"

"That Bunny Boiler has slept her way around the entire complex, and most of Clark County. If I ever lose my mind and bed that whackjob, I want you to grab my pistol and shoot me dead, do you hear me? Promise."

"I promise." Picking up his end of the mattress, Greg said, "Seriously though, I don't want my moving in here to mess things up with the ladies. Do you want to work out a special signal for when you're entertaining? We could put a…"

"It won't be a problem, trust me. I don't bring chicks home."

"Really? Why? Unless it's too personal, then…"

"Nah." Walking backwards through the living room, Nick said, "I used to bring women here, but it sucked when I couldn't get them to leave. I wanted to sleep and they'd be yammerin' on for **hours**. Or they'd want to cook for me and mess up the whole kitchen trying to make a friggin' egg. If they tried to clean up, they loaded the dishwasher all wrong or put everything back in the wrong spot. I hate that. Everything in my kitchen has a place and the dishwasher space is easily maximized if you use common sense."

_Duly noted._

"I reached my breaking point when this chick, Darla…or was it Marla? Who cares, let's just call her Stupid Bubble Bath Girl."

"This should be good."

"She brings over this bottle of nasty-ass stinky red shit and says," he mocked the bimbo's voice, "Nicky, let's take a bubble bath together, I got this new stuff and it's supposed to be totally hot!"

"Uh oh."

"Stupid Bubble Bath Girl was right, man. The shit **was** totally hot. Literally! My package was **on…fire**. Good thing I had already taken her around the world, because I woulda been pissed if I had a scorched hard on."

Greg shook with laughter.

"After I kicked her and her nasty-ass bottle of ball-burning bubble bath out the front door, I drained the tub. The stuff left a big…red…ring."

"No!"

"Yes! I had to replace the damn thing." Easing the mattress into the empty bedroom, Nick said, "After that, I instituted a No Girls Allowed policy and it's been great. Yeah, this place has been estrogen-free since July 17, 2004." He laughed, "There's a lot less laundry that way too. I go to **their **places, muss **their** sheets, and then things end when **I** want them to. I make my pager go off and pretend I'm bein' called into the lab. It's great, they actually feel bad for me when I'm runnin' out on them, because they think I'm out workin' to keep the streets safe, but really I'm home snorin' or playin' XBox."

"Teach on, Obi Wan."

"Unpack your pens and start takin' notes, man."

"Speaking of notes, what do I tell these ladies when they call here asking for you? Are you going to leave me a list of who you're avoiding? My roommate in college did that, it worked well."

"Like I give any of them my real phone number. Young Anakin, you have much to learn. No, the **only** girls who call here are my sisters, my mom, Sara and Catherine."

"What about Sofia?"

They lifted the mattress.

"You know how she used to flirt with me at work, but suddenly doesn't?"

"Uh oh."

They dropped the mattress on the box spring.

"Yeah, she was all over me when we were waitin' on Vartann in Boulder City about a month ago. What was I supposed to think she wanted? We ended up screwin' like rabbits in the back of my Denali."

"No!" Greg took a seat on the edge of the bed. "Was she any good?"

"Eh, no better or worse than the rest of them."

"I thought she was sleeping with Griss at one point."

"Me too. I asked her, but she said no." Nick gave a puckish laugh, "I don't want to have sex with anyone Grissom has been with, 'cause that would be like sharin' a chick with my Dad. So I did the customary 'have you slept with Grissom or Ecklie' background check."

"Chicks sleep with Ecklie?"

"Tish probably has."

After a belly laugh, Greg probed, "So what happened with Sofia?"

From the opposite side of the mattress, Nick droned, "Unbeknownst to me, she thought it was the beginning of **a relationship**, so when I referred to it as a boredom-bang, she got more than a little pissed off."

"Hey, just so I'm on the same page, what exactly is **your **definition of a boredom bang?"

"It's when you decide to do it because you have nothin' else to do. Like when you're trapped in a house because of a storm and the power goes off. Why? What's yours?"

"Same thing, a storm, no power…you can't cook, read, or play Monopoly, so..." Getting a head start out of the bedroom, Greg launched a joke on the run, "Sorry, when you first said the term boredom-bang, I panicked thinking it was something that occurred between lonely ranch boys and their sheep."

"Like you can outrun me?!" Nick bolted after him, but when he reached the kitchen, he went for the fridge, not revenge. "I'd hurt you, but I don't want to make your mommy cry."

"You break me, you buy me."

"Tell me…" Nick grabbed two Amstels from the fridge with a smile. "What's a badly dressed lunatic geek boy with a poor excuse for a sense of humor goin' for these days exactly?"

"Dude, you know the saying." Greg snatched one of the bottles. "If you have to ask the price…"

* * *

"Careful!" Sara panicked when Grissom tossed one of her boxes on the kitchen table, "Sorry, I didn't mean to yell. That box is fragile." 

"It's not marked fragile." He pointed to the small empty square next to the word 'fragile' on the box. "You're supposed to mark it if it's fragile. That's why they put that on moving boxes. " Using the marker from his pocket, he checked the designated space. "You can't be extra careful with something if you don't know it's fragile."

"Thank you for that very thorough lesson in appropriate box marking," she laughed, loving him most when he was in uber-geek mode. "I'll be more careful when marking boxes in the future."

"Are you already planning to leave me?" he jokingly asked, before legitimately worrying.

"The thought hadn't crossed my mind."

"Good."

"Especially after it took so long to get you," she sweetly laughed, "I mean, come on…I need some return on investment."

"Tell me…" His smile grew. "How far in the red are you exactly?"

"Deep. Center of the Universe deep. It's going to take a long, long time to dig out of the hole, and after I expend all that effort…" She shrugged. "You'll be a habit by then."

They gravitated to each other, noses gently bumping until their lips brushed.

"Lucky for me…habits are hard to break."

"Only bad ones."

Forgetting the movers could enter at any minute, they gave in to a passionate kiss.

"Ma'am?" Len Diaz laughed when he saw the couple split apart like busted teens. "Sorry. Where do you want the desk?"

Gil pointed. "Down the hall, first door on the left."

"Thanks."

"If you could go out and direct Joe…"

"I'll be right there," Sara replied without turning. When the movers were gone, she brushed her lover's cheek, like she had touched him when they stood outside an apartment covered in chalk dust many years ago. "I forgot to do something." She snatched the black marker out of Gil's hand, tugged her v-neck shirt aside, and drew a small box with a check mark over her heart. "Now you know."

* * *

**ANs: **

A note based on questions I've rec'd - Nick will be a very complicated character in my story. In the 2nd scene with Greg, he's trying to entertain. Crass guy humor is what it is and they were cutting loose and drinking. His character has a million miles to go and this is mile 2 on the journey.

For anyone not familiar with my writing style, I tend to write character a little over the top or one dimensional in the beginning, because that allows me to peel back their layers and show what they are made of and what they were hiding when presenting themselves. Character development and backstory are my favorite parts of writing. I like to watch the character grow with the story. In this chapter I dropped that Nick is the kind of guy who cleans out his savings account to bail his sister out of trouble, and he admitted that he asked Greg to live there because 'he kinda needed a friend' hinting that maybe he's not doing all that well sometimes.

As for Nick's bravado/joking in the last chapter, a healthy portion of that is just him being a guy drinking beer and cutting loose with a buddy. Sometimes people ask me 'do guys REALLY talk/behavior like that'. My answer always is…ever see Dodgeball? Guys can be very serious, but also very silly. When I was in college in NY, I worked in this great family-run pizzeria, and had the fortunate experience of working with many 'larger than life' guys. When Nick's telling a story, I'm channeling these guys LOL Besides the personal experience, my husband reads all the guy parts for authenticity and I often consult a couple of guy friends. In my mind, Nick is a totally different person when talking to Sara than Greg and he's a different person talking to Warrick than Greg, because Warrick is a different kind of guy. With Warrick he's 'all man', with Greg, he can cut loose and have fun. He'd never pull that Cletus joke with Warrick LOL On the show, he rarely invades Warrick's personal space but he's touching Greg and laughing close with him all the time.

In my mind writing this story, Greg is someone who is always observing and listening. He knows Nick's perspective is way off some times and he's starting to push that by presenting a different point of view to Nick's stories. The girl overtalked because she was nervous, she showed you pictures, because she was homesick. And in the next chapter, he'll have some influence on rectifying matters between Nick and another coworker.

I hope that provides a little insight into where I'm coming from when I write those scenes.

**Thanks for reading! **

**Maggs**


	3. Chapter 3: The Honeymoon Stage

**Where You Are  
****Written By:** **Ms Maggs ****/ Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 3 – The Honeymoon Stage of Cohabitation**

"Time to wake up." When he didn't get a response the third time, Gil gently shook his sleepy lover, who also happened to be his employee. "You have to get ready for work, Honey." He was anxious to get to the lab and check on the beetles he had accidentally left there the previous night. In his pre-Sara life, he would have returned in the middle of the night, but bugs were no longer his top priority. "We're covering for day shift's vacation, remember?"

"It's okay." Groaning, she pulled the covers over her head. "I won't get in trouble, because I'm sleeping with the boss."

"All the more reason not to call attention to me giving you special treatment."

"You can yell at me when I get there, I don't care. Kill two birds with one stone and yell at me in front of Catherine so she'll be in a good mood the rest of the day and not irritate the rest of us with her bitching."

"Sara…"

"There's that tone." Tossing back the luxurious comforter she had purchased that weekend, Sara grumbled, "Yeah, yeah, I know, let it go. For the record, I think Nick's **way **more irritated with her than me now. Her foray into Reverse Forensics still has him shooting daggers on the sly."

He didn't mask his irritation. "How quickly people forget who came up with their million dollar ransom."

"How quickly people turn on the team mates they've known for years to cozy up to Ecklie…and the Sheriff…and the new guy…or any guy. Sorry, but us people with trust issues are having a hard time with Catherine's tactics."

"Look, I brought you juice," Gil announced, changing the subject.

"Day four and he's still greeting me with juice." Thrilled to move on to a better topic, she pushed herself up to sit with her back against the headboard. "How long will this honeymoon stage of cohabitation last?"

"Well, this juice isn't freshly squeezed like the past two mornings, so perhaps we're already on the downhill slide."

Taking the glass, she smiled, "What will it be by Friday? An orange on the nightstand with a note that says 'squeeze the damn thing yourself'?"

"Thanks for the idea, I was stumped."

As Gil leaned in for a kiss, Sara shielded her mouth. "Sorry, morning breath."

"I work with the dead, remember? A little morning breath doesn't bother me." He tugged at her bottom lip with his mouth. "You've spoiled me the past two mornings, and my body quickly adapts to new routines. It's assuming that morning three will mirror one and two."

"My body craves routine too, and just like on mornings one and two it's expects to use the bathroom before any romance." She pecked his lips before dashing out of bed. "And don't expect to get lucky on 'Orange with a Note' day."

Slipping under the covers, he laughed, "I think I just reconsidered Friday's breakfast menu. How does pancakes, fresh fruit and gourmet coffee sound?" The only answer he heard was a flush. "Living together really does remove some of the mystique out of a relationship, doesn't it?" He tossed his boxers.

"Speaking of which..." She returned holding a pair of his boxer-briefs. "I don't recall you not hitting the hamper when I visited, but you're 0 and 3 since I moved in."

"Really?" He patted the bed. "I hadn't noticed, but I plan on making a concerted effort to score every day going forward. I'll try to get my shorts in the hamper too."

"Look at you." Sara dropped the briefs on the floor. "Your crazy neighbor was right. Having me around is keeping you young. Right now I'd guess you to be about eighteen and horny."

"You'll find evidence to support your theory when you join me under the sheets."

Knowing this slice of carefree romance would soon be replaced by depressing case files or gory fieldwork, she savored every moment. "Hello," she murmured while sliding under the covers.

"Hello." Stroking her hair as he gazed into her eyes, Gil whispered, "I love waking up with you in morning." Although it was crazy to think anything so serious so soon, he couldn't help but wish he could do it every day for the rest of his life. "It feels so…"

"Right." Hearing him use the word 'love' made her delightfully anxious. They hadn't exchanged 'I love yous' yet, but she felt it and believed he did too. Was his '**I love** waking up with **you** in the morning' a sneaky way of saying it without saying it? Was he not saying it because he wasn't ready to, or did he believe she wasn't ready to hear it?

Gil made his move, blanketing her body with his as he claimed her mouth with a passionate kiss. "I think you were off, I feel sixteen."

Swept away in the moment, she returned the stealthy affirmation, "**I love** waking up with **you** too." It had only been three days, and far too soon to know what the future held for them, but as her lover claimed her body, she wanted to believe that life would always be this good.

"Sara…"

They opted to trade places as the passion grew.

"Hell of a way to start the day, isn't it?" she growled while claiming the top spot.

"Beats the hell out of a cold shower." His eyes drank in every inch of the luscious body enticing him. "Perfect." A naughty smirk took over his mouth as he reviewed the reality of the situation. _I'm in bed with Sara Sidle, a young, gorgeous woman with a brain as beautiful as her gyrating hips. She's mine, all mine, and no one knows. Soon we'll be sitting in a conference room reviewing case files with the team and they'll wonder why I'm in a good mood. Wouldn't they be surprised to know? And wouldn't I love to tell them, especially Greg, because it's no secret that he wants her too. _

Her body rushing toward satisfaction, Sara closed her eyes and counted her blessings. Finally she had a guy who loved her for her brain as well as her body, and in spite of her baggage. He was wonderful, and living under the same roof was going great, but as their loving reached its crescendo, she thanked God that she also lived with a guy who knew what to do in the sack and wasn't afraid he'd offend her by growling a few dirty words.

"I've never felt like more of a genius than I do right now," Gil stated after a minute of post-coital panting.

"Why's that?" Sara dropped onto the bed catching her breath.

"Because asking you to move in with me was a **brilliant **idea."

"And I'm feeling pretty good about my answer of 'yes'." Sara's smile lit the room. "Waking up alone and horny every day really sucks."

The satisfied fifty year old who was feeling pretty damn cocky about getting the girl pursed his lips to keep the terribly immature thought on his tongue from slipping out. _I'm sure Greg would agree_.

"Mmm, now I really don't want to go to work."

"Don't take this the wrong way." Gil rolled on his side to explain, "As much as I'd love some pillow talk, I have these beetles in my office…"

"Go."

Now that he said it out loud, he felt ridiculous. "Actually, it's okay, I…"

"We both know it's not," Sara laughed at him. "Go play with your bugs, I'll see you there."

"Thank you for understanding." After a goodbye kiss, he hurried for the shower.

"Breakfast for one it is." Grabbing her abandoned glass of juice, she sighed, "Never shoulda fell for an Entomologist."

* * *

"Time to wake up." When he didn't get a response the third time, Greg pounded on the door. "Stokes! Your kit and keys are by the door, so I know you're in there." Now that he had his confidence back, he was excited to go to work. "Okay, I'm outta here. You have forty-five minutes to…" 

"Sanders!" Throwing open his bedroom door, Nick snarled, "What the hell, man?" He shoved his sports watch in his obviously insane friend's face. "It's friggin' seven o'clock in the morning. I just went to bed a couple of hours ago."

"Dude, did you forget? It's day shift's spring vacation week. We're trading off with swing to cover every other day. We have Monday, Wednesday and Saturday. Today is Monday. Yesterday being Sunday should have been a big clue."

Nick stuffed his hands on the waist band of his rumpled boxers "No, we're coverin' Tuesday, Thursday and Friday."

"No, that's what we had back in January for their winter vacation week. It rotates, remember?"

"Dammit!"

"What time did you come home?" Staring at the man who looked like death and reeked of cheap perfume, Greg asked, "What did you end up doing last night anyway?" He chuckled, "Or is '**who** did you end up doing' more accurate?"

"Uh…give me sec." Running a shaky hand over his beard stubble, the late night partier groaned, "I went to play some Texas Hold 'Em at the Tangiers with Vartann. While I was there, I hooked up with this cocktail waitress, a cute little red head. Carissa?" He looked to Greg for confirmation. "Or was it Nina?"

"Why are you lookin' at me for an answer?" Greg laughed. "I wasn't there. You asked me to tag along, but I opted to stay home and tweak my paper, remember?" It was his third attempt at getting something published and unlike the previous unsuccessful efforts, he was hoping this one would be the charm.

"Carina! That was it. Sorry, I'm still half asleep. She moved here last month from Fort Worth and I could tell she was a little homesick by the way she was talkin'. I told her how I felt the same way when I first left Dallas and we hit it off from there." Rubbing his bare, grumbling belly, Nick trudged back to his bed and collapsed on it. "Her shift ended at midnight and she offered to make me the best fajitas I ever had. You know how much I love fajitas, man. We went to her place, and she was real nice, but it took frickin' **forever **for herto make the meal. Seriously, you woulda thought she was grindin' her own flour for the damn tortillas. That's why I'm dyin' this morning. We were drinkin' margaritas while she cooked and I got tanked."

"Good thing I added a shot of espresso in here." Greg strolled into the room with a steaming mug of coffee. "It's my Blue Hawaiian too, not that generic Costco swill you buy in bulk. I won't even let my coffee be in your pantry with that crap."

"Thanks, I love this stuff." After hacking up a lung, the hungover ladies man struggled to a sitting position and took the steaming mug in his jittery hands. "I think Carissa had OCD."

"Car-**ina**."

"Sorry," Nick chuckled.

"Why do you think Car-**ina** had OCD?" _Because it takes one Obsessive Compulsive to know one? _

"Because first she was obsessed with slicing the peppers and onions so they'd be** exactly **the same size, and then I caught her countin' out shreds of cheese onto her fajitas like she was dealin' cards. I honestly think she was worried one fajita would feel gypped if it got twelve strings of cheddar instead of thirteen. It was really bizarre, and I didn't want to sleep with her if she had issues and was vulnerable. I checked her medicine cabinet to see if she was taking anything for a mental problem, but I didn't see any meds."

"Ah, the perils of dating a CSI, we're always secretly on the prowl for evidence to support our theories." _Note to self…hide your pills._

"Exactly." Grinning, Nick held up his mug. "You know, between the plasma TV, this righteous coffee, and you loadin' the dishwasher correctly last night, I'm almost thinkin' this wasn't the worst mistake of my life lettin' you move in here."

"I should probably be pacing myself." Greg's infectious laughter filled the room as he headed for the window. "Shield your eyes, Nosferatu." He snapped open the blind.

"Damn, it really is morning."

"What time did you get home? I didn't hear you come in, which is a **great **sign, because it means I've finally stopped sleeping with one eye open while waiting to be attacked."

"Uh, let's see." Sipping coffee, Nick thought back to the previous night's events. "We hit the sheets about two-thirty, and I was able to rock her world, fulfill her need for pillow talk, and be on my way home in a little under two hours. So about five I guess." Yawning, he whimpered, "I swear I could sleep for a year."

"So, was it good?"

Nick shrugged. "It was okay. She made chicken fajitas, I prefer steak, and she didn't have beans or Cholula, so I'd give it about a five. Maybe a six, 'cause she did a real nice job on the presentation."

"Hey, Emeril," Greg deadpanned, "I meant the action, not the food."

"Oh." Laughing, Nick lowered his mug. "She screeched when she popped. I hate that, it's like nails on a chalkboard to me." He shivered. "And she was a big-time talker, but not in a good way. She was talkin' like I was one of her girlfriends. I mean, know your audience, right? I don't want to hear about how you got your lingerie on sale. I'm a guy. All I want to hear is 'take it off, Cowboy'."

"Have you considered that maybe she was overtalking because she was nervous around you?"

"I guess that coulda been it, yeah. Oh, but get this…she let her two Shih Tzus up on the bed after we were done, and one of them almost licked my crack. See, right there is why my parents never let us have pets on our beds as kids."

"No bestiality allowed, huh?" Greg rolled with laughter. "Not even on Saturday fun day?"

Nick rolled his eyes, cursing himself for ever sharing the details of the Stokes Family Schedule. "It's unsanitary to have pets on the bed, that's why." He padded across the floor to the bathroom. "Dogs step in piss and turds when they're out walkin', and I don't want my naked ass on sheets covered in urine and feces."

"Some people pay good money for that at Lady Heather's."

"Ha!" Yelling from the bathroom, Nick said, "So that's why I didn't sleep at Car-**ina**'s last night even though I was beat. Plus, she started showing me pictures of her as a bridesmaid in all these family weddings and talkin' about her sister bein' pregnant with her first baby. That's like a woman puttin' a neon sign over her head that flashes 'I'm desperate to get married and be impregnated on our honeymoon'. I got totally freaked. I excused myself to the bathroom and grabbed the used condom out of the trash to make sure she didn't purposely put a hole in it." Washing his hands, he explained, "After that heart attack I decided I'm only usin' the ones I bring from now on, not theirs."

_Could ya be a little more full of yourself?_ "You know, maybe she wasn't really after your swimmers. You said she was homesick, so it makes perfect sense to me that she got carried away talking about her family and looking at pictures because she missed them."

"No, no, wait 'til I tell you what she did when I..."

"Actually, I've heard enough. This all sounds remarkably similar to your Friday night story, and about a hundred other ones you've told me over the years."

"Aww, are you jealous, G?" Nick strutted out of the bathroom grinning, "If you come out with me next time, I'm sure I can get you laid." He hated watching the poor guy trip over himself chasing Sara week after week.

"By one of the crazy chicks you come home and talk about? No thanks." Greg asked a burning question, "Seriously, why do you continue to waste valuable hours of your life with people you don't enjoy, in homes you find uncomfortable, while eating food you don't like?"

"Jesus H, I hope that's a rhetorical question. I do it because I wanna get laid!" Nick chortled as he headed for the kitchen with Greg at his heels. "It's a trade off. I politely put up with all that BS in exchange for some action. If I could get action and great food with a person I liked, then life would be sweet, but until then…a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. Hmm, let me see if I can put it in a way that you would understand. Don't you ever do things you don't like just to keep your hand happy and puttin' out?"

"Laugh all you want, dude, but least I enjoy my hand's company, know where it's been, and will never have to pay it child support." Greg pointed to the counter. "I made an extra burrito if you're hungry."

"But did you wash your hands before you made it, Spanky?"

"Twice. It's on the counter next to the bottle of your precious Cholula that I bought when I went shopping last night, because I was tired of hearing you **whine** that you were out." He popped open his kit to make sure it was stocked.

"Oh yeah!" Smacking his lips, Nick hopped onto one of the stools, unwrapped the breakfast treat and doused it with his favorite condiment. After a bite he was surprised to find out that it tasted as good as it looked. "Wow, this is great, seriously, it's restaurant quality."

Greg muttered, "I should have withheld my burritos to use as leverage after football season."

After another delicious bite, Nick declared, "I know what I'm going to do from now on. I'm gonna get my kicks with the ladies, come home and sleep in my own bed, and then have you cook me breakfast. That's best of all worlds right there."

"Nice, but what's in it for me?"

"Geez, you've got a frickin' roof over your head in the safest neighborhood this city has to offer and my sunny personality to come home to. What more could you want?" Nick took another bite. "I guess the honeymoon's over. We've only been livin' together for four days and we already sound like a pissy married couple."

"I'm really sorry." Suddenly worried, Greg rushed to explain, "I didn't mean to sound like I wasn't grateful. I was kidding. I owe you big for letting me move in here, because if you hadn't stopped me, I would have quit and…"

"Hold up! I wasn't serious."

"Really, it's okay. I know you felt sorry for me and didn't think it through, I would** totally** understand if you were regretting it. I mean it. I know you don't really need the cash, and you…"

"Jeeez! Shut your pie hole and let me finish."

"Shutting."

"I never woulda asked if I didn't want you here. I know you don't believe me about the money because I make a lot more than you, but the truth is," Nick lowered his voice to a sincere hush, "between you and me, one of my sisters ran into some trouble and I cleaned out my savings to help her. It wasn't enough, so I'm going to send her the money you're payin' me in rent every month until she gets back on her feet. She was too ashamed to go to our parents or ask our big bucks big brother, who's also a big asshole sometimes. Okay? And look…I'm a proud guy too, so I get where you're comin' from. I'd feel awkward if I thought I was someone's charity case. I need the money, that's the truth and to be real honest…I kinda needed a friend around too." Nick smiled, hoping all doubts had been removed. "Cool?" When Greg nodded, he moved on to prove it was behind them, "So, uh…" He held up what was left of his burrito. "Is this your specialty? Every guy learns to cook one thing well so he could impress the ladies, is this yours?"

"It's one of many." Closing his kit, Greg quietly replied, "When a guy is tied to his overprotective mother's aprons strings for eighteen years, he learns to cook whether he wants to or not."

"Did you have to spend a lot of time in the kitchen with your mother?"

"No, I had to spend too much time **everywhere** with my mother." Ready to drop the emotional subject, he grabbed his kit. "Okay, I'll see ya at work."

"Only 'cause you woke me. I woulda slept 'til four." As his overly sensitive housemate prepared to leave, Nick couldn't resist joking to prove all was well between them, "Yo, bitch! After I bust my ass all day workin' to save up for that double-wide you keep naggin' me about, I'll be wantin' a turkey pot pie for supper! You hear me?! And you better get your sorry self to the Circle K for a twelve pack of Bud, because if there isn't any in the fridge when I come home, I'm tossin' all that shit you keep buyin' off QVC out the god damn door!"

"You're like scary good at that, Cletus." Shaking his head at the Southerner, the California boy headed for the door. "You should have saved that gem for the team meeting this morning."

"Don't you back talk!" Nick grabbed his coffee like it was a beer. "I want some extra cash to buy another coon dog and the last time I checked there wasn't a god damn money tree in our backyard, so how 'bout you stop your bitchin' and get to work."

"Never shoulda fell for a redneck." Greg smiled all the way to his car.

* * *

**ANs:**

I've been wondering if Grissom ever had a moment of 'sorry, Greg, I won!' immaturity LOL

**Thanks for reading! **

**Maggs **


	4. Chapter 4: Workplace Harassment

**Where You Are  
Written By:** **Ms Maggs ****/ Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 4 – Workplace Harassment **

"You're in a good mood this morning." Sara joined Greg at the coffee pot, hoping he was making Blue Hawaiian. "Singing in the breakroom?" It was a 180 from the last time she had seen him. "You must be happy to be here and be over that nasty flu that kept you out of work for days."

"I didn't have the flu." Filling a mug for the woman he had been flirting with for years, he confessed, "I was home packing boxes and writing my resignation letter."

"You were going to throw your career away just because those idiots paid off the James family?"

Greg laughed as if the idea was preposterous. "No." Unfurling his sweetest smile, he handed her a mug of freshly brewed Blue Hawaiian. "I was leaving because I saw you with Griss the other night at the scene. You were vomiting in the backyard and he brought you a can of Sprite. I saw the way you looked at him, and realized…game over, I'll never have you." He sheepishly admitted, "A guy chases a dream for seven years and finds out that it's never gonna happen because his girl has been in love with someone else the whole time…he feels like a fool."

"Uh." The confession mentally knocking her off balance, Sara stammered, "I…um…I know sometimes I might have said things or done things. I…I'm really sorry, Greg, you've been through so much recently. Please believe me when I say I never meant to hurt you in any way. You're a great guy. Too good for me actually, because you're such a high energy, happy person and I'm moody, bordering on bitch at times. Seriously, you don't need my baggage bogging you down. You're a gentle soul and there's someone out there who needs a sweet, fun guy like you." Nerve wracked by the news, she kept overtalking and attempted humor, "And I saw your bod in the shower, remember, so I know what I'm talking about when I say, whoever she is, she'll be **very** lucky to have you for that reason too. _I'm rejecting him while telling him he's well hung, so on top of being cruel, I'm making no sense._ "Also, would you mind not saying anything about what you saw, because Grissom didn't exactly return my affection." _And now I just confirmed I don't want him even though I'm alone and rejected myself. Nice. _"What I mean is…"

"It's okay, Sara." Soulfully gazing into her eyes, he stroked her cheek and whispered, "You know why it's okay?"

"Why?" she breathed out, feeling terrible.

"Because I'm yanking your chain. It was the payout. I felt incredibly screwed."

"You bastard!" She was about to throw her beverage, but remembered it was hot and controlled herself.

Laughing his ass off, Greg darted away. "Ha! You don't want to waste your favorite coffee by throwing it at me."

"No, I just remembered it was Catherine's job to give you third degree burns at the lab."

"Oh! Would that be the moody bitchy side that you were referring to?" he asked in between laughs.

"I can't believe you!" Her heart was still pounding from the drama. "You made me feel so guilty!"

Safely using the table to separate them, he deadpanned, "In all honesty, you were a colossal tease over the years, so the guilty feelings aren't all that inappropriate."

"Oh!"

Puffing up, he teased, "I guess you were just trying to make Grissom jealous by pretending to be interested in a better," he winked, "bigger man."

"What's going on in here?" Grissom asked when he saw his significant other lunging for Greg.

"After seven long years, Sara and I** finally **declared our love for each other, and she doesn't want to wait to consummate it." Darting behind Grissom, Greg laughed, "Come on, help me out! Tell her it's against department policy to get it on in the breakroom unless your name is Catherine."

Looking at the man she had made passionate love with earlier that morning, she snipped, "I sincerely hope you know he's joking about the love part."

"No, I think he's quite serious," Grissom casually replied on the way to the coffee pot. "People suffering from delusions always believe their fantasies are real."

Fearing she'd blurt 'I love you for that', Sara covered her mouth.

Greg reached into his pocket. "Hey, Griss, I need to give you this."

When the supervisor glanced at the paper he said, "A change of address form?"

"Yeah, I'm supposed to turn it into my supervisor."

Sara anxiously looked at Gil. "A change of address form?" They hadn't thought about paperwork required because of her move.

"It's department policy," Greg explained. "You're required to update your address within seven days of a move."

"This is Nick's address," Grissom remarked with a puzzled expression.

"With all the recent publicity, I was having some problems at my apartment complex."

"What kind of problems?" Sara's concern made her forget her own issue for the moment.

"Flat tires, glares from some of the residents."

Grissom snapped into supervisor mode, "If anyone directly threatened you, then we…"

"Look, it's over, I'm gone, the last thing I want to do is draw more attention to myself." Greg pointed to the form. "Long story short, I had to move and Nick offered to rent me the extra master suite in his townhouse until I finish saving up to buy a place of my own in a better neighborhood." He backpedaled, "I didn't mean that to sound…what I meant was a better neighborhood for me to be in right now, because of the circumstances. Under normal circumstances I would have no problem in any neighborhood with any people, I still don't, they just seem to have a problem with me and I don't want to cause anyone…"

"You're overtalking." Sara smiled at her friend. "It's okay, I do that sometimes too when I don't know the right thing to say. Overtalking usually just makes things worse though. Isn't that right, Grissom?"

"Indeed." Gil nodded at Greg. "Your friends know who you are. Don't worry what anyone else thinks."

"Thanks."

"Now back to this department policy." Sara snatched the form from Grissom's hand. "Is it **mailing** address that's critical to them or** physical** address?" _I'm sure that didn't sound too suspicious to the genius._ "Because…because I'm not sure if I changed my physical address with them when I move a couple of years ago."

"Mailing, so if you're using a P.O. Box, they won't care," Greg confirmed while suspecting something was up between the two people who supposedly weren't together. "Hey, Grissom, it's not a violation of department policy for two people who work together to live together, is it?"

Concerned the nosy genius might be catching on, Grissom calmly replied, "Only if it's a supervisor, subordinate relationship and the two people are married. So you and Nicky will be fine unless one of you becomes the other's boss, the State of Nevada amends its policy on same-sex marriage, and the two of you continue to work together in a supervisor-subordinate capacity should you opt to tie the knot." He patted Greg's shoulder. "Until then…enjoy all the perks of shacking up with a coworker."_ I am. _

"You're in a really good mood today, Griss."

"Yes." _Because your fantasy is my reality. There, I've thought it to your face, so now hopefully I can stop being twelve._ "Thank you for noticing, and welcome back." Grissom strolled for the door. "I'll see you two at the meeting."

"You look noticeably upbeat today yourself." Sara came to rest in front of her friend.

"You do too, especially around Grissom, which is odd since you said he shot you down."

"I bounce back quickly."

"So, uh…are you guys gonna carpool now?"

* * *

"You're in a good mood this morning." Standing next to his buddy, Warrick threw open his locker and unbuttoned his dress shirt. "What was her name?" 

"Car-**ina**." Nick smiled at the inside joke and thought of the laughs he had shared with Greg before coming to work that morning. _Cletus…ha! _

"What'd you do?"

_Knowing that smart ass, he'll bring home a turkey pot pie and a twelve pack. I should borrow one of Bobby Dawson's coon dogs and have it sittin' on the couch with me tonight when... _

"Yo!"

Nick glanced up. "Huh?"

"You're distracted." Warrick stepped back smiling. "This girl really got to you. Tell me about her."

"Carina? Yeah, I met her last night playin' Texas Hold 'Em at the Tangiers. Cute red head, just moved here from Fort Worth. We went back to her place and she made me fajitas." Nick sat on the bench to re-tie one of his boots. "You're gonna have to imagine how it went from there, 'cause you know I don't kiss and tell."

"You gonna see her again? Or did she have an extra long pinky toe or something else wrong with her that made you lose her phone number?" Because there was always something that sent his buddy running away from a woman without looking back.

"She had these Shih Tzus…"

"I knew it." Warrick shook his head. "Three words for ya…**fear…of…commitment**. I don't get it. After your abduction, it should have been **you** who realized life was too short and got married, not me." With 20/20 hindsight, he wished he hadn't. "This is just you and me, alright? Is it too hard to trust someone after that, or what? Because you're worse now than you ever were."

"You're right, it's a trust thing." Nick nodded, "I figured I'd wait and watch how the commitment experience worked out for you and Tina, and if it all went well, then I'd give it a shot. Sorry, man, but the jury is in and when it comes to wantin' a long-term relationship with a woman, I'm less enthusiastic than ever after watchin' you suffer."

"Is that why you asked Sanders to move in?" He had found out two days earlier. "Because you're sick of women and switchin' teams?" When his buddy shot daggers, he stopped laughing, "Don't worry, I know you asked The Hood's Most Wanted to move into that lily-white neighborhood of yours because you were worried about some brothers killin' his ass, not because you want it for yourself."

"Thanks for the benefit of the doubt, man." Nick rolled his eyes.

"Hey, I'm your friend, I know the score, but you'll be hearin' some shit about it from LVPDs not-so-finest, so be prepared." Warrick grabbed his work boots from the locker. "Oh yeah, two thirty-somethin' guys…neither one of them ever having a relationship with a woman all these years…Sanders wearin' jacked up clothes half the time and gettin' his ass kicked because he's too scared to pack heat…you sucker puchin' that punk at the scene when he riled you about Greg. Come on, Nicky. You grew up in Texas and played ball, do the math. As soon as the word's out, cops like Castorini will be humming the theme to Brokeback Mountain when they see you two approaching a scene."

"How does the Brokeback Mountain theme go exactly? Just so I can recognize it."

"You think I saw that movie?" Warrick's laughter bounced off the metal lockers.

Nick joined in laughing, "I figured Yoko made you watch it."

"Oh she tried."

"Ha!"

"Oh yeah, she brings that DVD home one night and of course, I refuse to watch it with her. She's like," he mocked her voice, "'what do you mean you won't watch it?' I'm like, what part of 'Baby, I have no desire to see two gay cowboys having sex don't you understand?' She's gets all bent and accuses me of bein' homophobic. I tell her I'm not homophobic, I work with people who are gay, I even have gay friends. I don't care what my gay friends do behind closed doors every night, that's the truth, I don't. It's noneof my business what anyone does with their significant other, I just don't want to see it in front of me, or on my TV, no more than two gay men want to sit down with a bucket of popcorn and watch a brother gettin' it on with his woman."

"What did she say to that?"

"Nothin'." Grabbing a fresh shirt, Warrick sighed, "Apparently hearing me talk about gay sex was a turn on, because she jumped my ass right there and never did end up watchin' the movie."

"That's messed up."

"Nicky! I can't believe I'm the last to know." Catherine strutted over grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Do you and Greg want a toaster or a blender?" She took the spot next to Warrick so she would have a clear view of Nick's eye roll. "How are your conservative parents taking the news of you shacking up with a liberal Californian?"

"I haven't told them yet actually." Nick stood to inspect his firearm. "Greggo was havin' problems with his landlord, and some of his neighbors were givin' him crap, that's why he had to move. So, sorry to disappoint your twisted mind, Catherine. It's as simple as he needed a place to go and I had room." His voice dropping, he said, "Just a friend helpin' out a friend in need with no strings attached. Like when you tried to save me by gettin' the ransom which, just so we're clear…I'll never forget no matter what happens the rest of our lives." _No matter how much you go behind my back or piss me off. So could you please stop hinting that I have. _"I'll be grateful forever. Okay?"

"Awww, lighten up, Nicky. I was joking. I know you're as red-blooded as a male comes. Hell, we go to a bar together and we're not there five minutes before you're leaving with a girl on your arm, right?" _That's how I wound up drugged in a motel room, because I was abandoned by **my friend** because he had to get laid_. She dropped a hand on his shoulder. "Honestly, I think having quirky, hyper Greg around will be good for you. You take everything way too hard these days and you can't let go of things that used to roll right off your back."

"MmmHmm." Nick shut his locker and forced a smile, "Okay, as much as I'd love to stick around and discuss what's wrong with me, I have a stack of cases to review before we meet with Grissom. I'll catch you guys later."

Once they were alone, Warrick took his co-worker by the elbow. "Pointing out that you think he's messed up and walking around like a bomb waiting to go off, isn't gonna work, especially not now when he doesn't trust you because of the Reverse Forensics garbage."

"Which part of 'I didn't have a choice' do you people not get!" she snapped, sick and tired of the issue being thrown in her face.

"Cath…"

"Don't Cath me!" Her frustration exceeding her patience, she blasted, "How can he question my loyalty when I showed up with a million in cash? How can what happened last month when I was **following orders** take that level of trust away? And why isn't he pissed off at Brass too?"

"Come on, you know it's not just about what happened with Keppler. It's about Sara and Ecklie and…"

"And you're all perfect?! You never make mistakes?! Sara's backing him up, because she's still pissed about something that happened over a year ago, that's ridiculous."

"You never did tell her you were sorry."

"You're one to talk about saying sorry."

"Is this about…"

"Don't play innocent." She postured, swinging her hair off her shoulders. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. I'm done here." She turned to leave. "Shit or get off the pot, Warrick. Your indecisiveness is making you look pathetic."

"Hey!" Shaking his head, Warrick watched her storm off, then turned to his locker. "Second woman to bite my head off today."

"Warrick?" Greg's voice called out.

"Yo."

"Hey." Greg anxiously cleared his throat and said, "It's your lucky day."

"No, it's not, trust me."

"Yeah, well, I was being sarcastic."

Warrick slammed his locker and checked his firearm. "Welcome back by the way."

"Thanks."

"So what's goin' on?"

"My biggest fan, the Under Sheriff, just **ordered **that you and I spend some quality time in the field today…in a specific geographic region that I'm sure you can guess, all because he thinks it will be a good PR move. He hasn't ordered us to play basketball together, but I'm sure that's coming. He's probably out getting matching jerseys printed right now. Yours will say 'I like white guys' and mine will say 'Black people are way cool. After that, he'll have us eating fried chicken and quiche together in the park on a Burberry blanket while listening to Michael Jackson's oh so poignant Black or White."

"No, no, no." Warrick holstered his gun. "What that man doesn't know…."

"Honestly, I think there's a good chance that he's hoping I won't come back alive and the whole thing will be put to rest. For all I know, he's ordered a hit and this is the ruse."

"That's not gonna happen on my shift, Greggo. No way. They'll have to take me down too." Warrick tossed his arm around the jittery man's shoulders and walked him out of the locker room. "You know why I'm gonna be your bodyguard?"

"Because my mommy is paying you?"

"No, because Nicky would kill me if I let anything happened to his significant other."

"Ah."

Fishing his keys out of his pocket, Warrick laughed, "Are you guys gonna carpool now?"

* * *

"Guess what?" Nick dangled his keys in front of Sara, who was sitting in the conference room in front of a stack of files. "Instead of meeting with Grissom, we have a possible suicide." 

She jumped to her feet. "I wanna drive."

"Actually, you have to drive." He whispered, "I thought we were coverin' Tuesday, not Monday, and I didn't get home until five. My BAC is still over legal. I took a cab here."

She snatched the keys. "Why didn't your roomie drive you? Don't tell me you already had your first quarrel after only four days."

"Cute."

They walked side by side down the hall.

"I think it's good." Sara smiled as she nodded. "It's good to live with someone."

"Then why do you live alone?"

"Not me, I was referring to Greg. It's good **he **lives with someone, because it has to be scary living alone after getting attacked. The poor guy probably lies in bed hearing every creak and gust of wind, thinking it's someone trying to break in and grab him."

"Yeah." Nick knew the feeling all too well. "That's why I wanted to help him out. That's no way to live."

"You're such a nice guy."

"Don't spread it around." Donning his sunglasses, he opened the front door for her like the gentleman he had been raised to be. "Let's hit the Java Bean drive-thru on the way."

"Hangover special?"

"Yep. Unless you need breakfast…"

"Already ate at home."

Nick chuckled, "Since when did you start eatin' breakfast at home? You're a worse bachelor than me, Sara, you don't even buy food."

"New habit, trying to save cash."

She hopped in the truck.

"But if you need breakfast," Sara offered when Nick took a seat, "we can stop."

"No, I ate at home today too."

"Since when did you start eating breakfast at home?" she asked while driving out of the lot.

"Greg cooks, can you believe it? He says he learned because he had to spend a lot of time in kitchen with his mother."

"After meeting Jan Sanders, I'd say she probably tied him to a kitchen chair every day so he wouldn't get hurt playing in the backyard."

"You may not be far off."

* * *

"Yessss!" Greg snapped his cell shut. "Grissom's rerouting us to The Tangiers. There's a DB in the men's room. Before we left, he said he'd think of something to get us out of this BS, but I didn't think he'd kill a guy." He laughed and the knots in his stomach eased. 

"You ever think Grissom has a basement full of dead bodies?"

"No, but I'm relatively certain that he has a few skeletons in his closet."

"Who doesn't, man, who doesn't?" Turning down the radio, Warrick said, "Maybe we'll run into a few angry black men at The Tangiers. Then we can do our soulful rendition of Black and White and kill two birds with one stone."

"Join in when you're ready." After a beat box intro, Greg broke into the rap chorus. "Protection, for gangs and clubs, and nations, causing grief in human relations, it's a turf war..."

"Yeah, you need to stop that."

Greg froze.

"Hey, I need to get serious for a sec…"

"I didn't mean to offend you with the song, I was kidding around. I…"

"Would you…it's not about the damn song, it's about Nick, but I can't believe you know the words to that song."

"I was a huge Michael Jackson fan as a kid. I taught myself to moonwalk. There was a talent show at school, and my mom even made me a sequin glove and…" When he saw Warrick shaking his head, Greg cleared his throat. "I'll shut up now."

"Did your mommy video tape you dancin' to MJ in the living room?"

"What **didn't **she video tape? First she did it the old fashioned way, but when Sony released the BetaMovie recorder in 1983, we were the first ones to have on the cul-de-sac. All because she had to document my life. Seriously, she has video tape of me sleeping. She still tapes me when I go home for visits. She has them all in the library cataloged on shelves. My dad said she's been watching them non stop since I was attacked. Her special project right now is making a tape of all my firsts…first smile, first word, first steps, the aftermath of my first wet dream, I'm shutting up now." Greg redirected, "What did you want to ask me about Nick?"

"You weren't serious about the wet dream part, right?"

"No!" At least he hoped she didn't have footage of it, because he was still traumatized from her finding the soiled sheets that morning when he was twelve and hearing her cry 'my little boy is growing up' while stripping them off the bed.

Chuckling, Warrick turned in the direction of the The Strip. "Does Nicky seem alright when he's home? This is between us by the way," he joked, "got that, Notorious G?"

"Got it."

"Do you think Nick's doin' okay? Because his fuse has become incredibly short, and he can't let go of anything, he never used to have a problem with that."

"Uh…" Watching the scenery zip by, Greg was torn between mutually worrying about Nick and betraying him. "I know what you mean. When we were working last week, the six girls murdered, he seemed one step away from explosion more than a couple of times, but yeah, we had a blast moving my stuff in and he seemed great. We drank and laughed our asses off. He was telling crazy stories like the ones that used to have us rolling at the diner. After moving, we ordered pizza and had a Farrelly brothers movie marathon. He seemed fine, but considering the amount of booze we consumed, he wouldn't have been able to be tense if he tried."

"Beavis and Butthead, huh?"

"Exactly." Greg smiled out the window. "Don't worry, I'll keep a close eye on Nick."

* * *

"I don't think this was a suicide." Sara stood staring at the words written in scarlet red lipstick on the couple's bathroom mirror. "'What comes around, goes around. Die you two-timing BASTARD!' What about you, Nick?" 

"Not really, no." Walking out of the bathroom, he sighed, "Looks like another case of love gone wrong, Vegas style. And people wonder why I don't settle down and get married. Is it **really **a mystery after what we see day after day?"

"Aww, but you used to be the hopeful romantic of the group."

"I used to be a lot of things." Standing at the side of the bed, he shook his head at the dead man, who had a fireplace poker stuck in his chest. "What the hell was that rookie thinkin' callin' this a possible suicide? That note on the mirror and this guy stabbed in the heart."

"Maybe the rookie is a hopeful romantic."

Nick paused to ponder the statement. "How the heck is thinkin' the guy offed himself a hopeful romantic's theory?"

"Think Romeo and Juliet."

"I haven't read that since high school, but from what I recall, Juliet didn't leave a note on the bathroom mirror sayin' 'Die you two-timing bastard'."

"I mean…suicide because of a broken heart. In order for a person to want to take their own life, the love had to be strong, and if it's strong, it exists and there is hope that love exists for everyone." She spoke with Shakespearian eloquence, "Think Star-crossed lovers. Unrequited love. Isn't it better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all?"

Snapping on his gloves, Nick sighed, "You really need a boyfriend, Sara."

She chuckled to herself. "And you really need a wife."

"You sound like my mommy and all five of my sisters." Nick laughed. "Hey, Greg's really grown up a lot, hasn't he?" He started snapping photos. "Yeah, I'm really proud of how he's handled himself with all this BS goin' on, aren't you?"

"Totally."

"Yeah." Nick continued inching into delicate territory. "And when he's not bein' serious, he's a great guy to have fun with. He had me laughin' my ass off all weekend. And I think he's a guy you can trust, don't you? I think he'd be loyal to a fault, and I don't know about you, but to me, there's nothin' more important in a relationship than trust."

"I agree." Sara stopped working to stare at her friend.

"Greg also strikes me as the kind of person who falls in love once and stays in love for life. Like my dad with my mom."

"And swans." Sara quietly asked, "Why are we talking about Greg like this, Nick?"

Walking over, he placed a hand on her shoulder, "Because maybe it's time."

"Um, time for what?"

"For you to give Greggo a shot." Smiling sweetly, he said, "The poor boy's been on your heels for years, you know he's nuts about you. What could it hurt?"

"Nick!" Her cheeks flushed. "Is **that **why you were singing Greg's praises? To convince me to go out with him? I don't tell you who to date, so why are you telling me?"

"I'm sorry for oversteppin' my bounds," he spoke from the heart, "I just feel bad for the guy is all and I've watched you be lonely for years. Now that Grissom's got someone, you..."

"Grissom has someone?" She feigned shock. "Who? How do you know?"

Seeing how hard the news was hitting her, Nick felt bad for letting it slip. "I don't know **who** it is, but I heard him talkin' on the phone with the movers the other day. Whoever it is, she's movin' in with him."

"Do you think it's Sofia?"

"No, it's not Sofia, that I know."

"Oh." Sara turned, so her smile wouldn't give her away.

"Are you okay?"

She felt bad for not being able to tell the truth, especially knowing Nick's sensitivities about deception. "I'm fine."

"Think about what I said, Sara, because it's a cold hard fact that Grissom is no longer available and..."

"What makes you think I want Grissom?"

"Sara, come on." Nick resumed snapping pictures. "Stop lyin' to yourself. Life's too short to waste it livin' a lie."

* * *

Hurrying across the casino floor with the supplies Warrick had requested he grab from the truck, Greg didn't see a cocktail waitress in his path. 

"Oh!"

"OH!" Greg saw the poor girl was coated in wine. "I'm so, **so** sorry! Here." Setting down his stuff, he scrambled to pick up her tray. "I'm such a spazz, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," she assured the flustered cutie wearing an LVPD jacket. "Are you here for the dead guy?"

"Yeah."

She whispered, "It's so creepy knowin' there's a dead guy in the bathroom."

"In this town, it happens more often than you think." When Greg handed over her tray he saw the red head's name tag. "Carina."

"Yeah?" the twenty-five year old smiled.

"My buddy Nick, actually he's my house mate, he just told me this morning that he met a cocktail waitress at The Tangiers by the name of Carina. Was it you?"

"Nick Stokes?"

"Yeah."

Carina's expression softened. "How long have you known him?"

"About eight years."

"You live with him?"

"Yeah, we're great buds."

Convinced the man was telling the truth, she asked, "Is he okay? I don't have his phone number. I thought about lookin' it up, but he was already so embarrassed, I didn't want to make it worse by checkin' up on him."

"Uh…"

"He was just so freaked out."

"Oh no, did it happen when he was with you too?" Greg hoped the leading statement would lead to specifics.

"Aww, is a regular thing? The poor guy. I guess if you live with him, you'd know."

"Yeah. How did it happen this time?"

"I was in the kitchen makin' fajitas and he was on the couch watchin' ESPN. Back home, my mama did all the cookin', so I'm just learnin' and I'm real slow." Dabbing her wet shirt with a cloth, she continued, "The poor guy was exhausted and fell asleep waitin' on me. That's when it happened. My dogs, I have two Shih Tzus, Minnie and Mickey, they jumped on him." Placing her hand on her chest, she asked, "What causes him to wake up screamin' and freak out like that? Is it like a Post Traumatic Stress Disorder thing from the job? Because when my cousin Bobby came home from Iraq last year he was sufferin' from that pretty bad. Y'all must see bad things like he did over there."

"Yeah."

"I kinda got a little scared at first because he was so agitated, and he was a stranger. I know, I know, it was a huge risk bringin' a stranger home, but he was so nice and I knew he was with the police department. Heck, any guy who sits through a girl showin' him family photos, has to be a sweetie, right? Anyway, I tried to talk to him about it, to tell him that it happens to my cousin, but he just said he had to go and bolted out the door."

"Uh." Thrown by the girl's story in comparison to Nick's version of events, Greg stammered, "Yeah, um…he's not much of a talker when it comes to personal stuff, even with friends, so don't feel bad."

"Here." Carina handed over her number. "You tell him to call me if he wants a rain check on those fajitas. Us Texans stick together, and like I said, I'm used to it with my cousin, so it won't scare me none now that I know what the problem is. You can tell him I'll put my dogs away when he's there just to be sure."

Greg took the paper. "Okay, but if he doesn't call, don't take it personally. When he gets embarrassed about something, it's hard to…"

"Carina!" The bar manager shouted, "Flirt on your own time!"

"Sorry, gotta go. It was nice meetin' ya!"

"Same here." Unsure of what to do with the information he had accidentally learned, Greg stuffed the paper in his pocket and resumed working.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5: Fever! In the Morning

**Where You Are**

**Written By:** **Ms Maggs ****/ Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 5 – Fever! In the Morning… **

"I think I'm coming down with something." Nick entered the kitchen massaging his temples. "I woke up with this nasty-ass headache."

Sitting at the kitchen counter working on his paper, Greg glanced up from his laptop. "Whoa, you look like death warmed over twice."

"Good morning to you too." Nick rolled his eyes. "I think a week of livin' with a smart ass has taken its toll. That and coverin' for Days every other day. TGIF, that's all I have to say. They're back on Sunday and like the Lord, we get to rest. I'm going to sleep all day too, because I feel like crap."

"Come here." Greg instinctually spoke his mother's words as he waved for his housemate to come closer, "Let's see if you're feverish." He held up the back of his hand. _Oh God, I'm turning into my mother! _If anyone within arms's reach of Jan Sanders mentioned the slightest ache, the maternal busybody checked their body temperature without invitation. "Sorry, you probably don't want me to..."

"No, check, 'cause my face does feel kinda flushed." Nick trudged over, his spirits as low as his sagging shoulders. "God, I hate being sick."

Greg pressed the back of his hand to his buddy's forehead.

"Gris and I spent hours at that Urgent Care on the corner of Ray and Westin the other day. Lots of germs in those urgent care places. I probably caught something gross."

_Here comes the hypochondria._ Greg had first learned of his co-worker's intense medical paranoia when the casual mention of biotoxin residue on evidence sent the man into a sweaty panic over his imminent death. "Any chills?"

"Now that you mention it," Nick rubbed his crossed arms, "I feel a little chilly, yeah. What'dya think? Did I feel feverish to you?"

"Maybe a low-grade fever, like 99."

"I used to have a thermometer, but I dropped it and it broke. I keep meanin' to buy a new one. Do you have one? Because I should probably find out for sure."

"I don't have one, sorry. What about your throat?" Greg continued through the Jan Sanders checklist. "Any scratchiness? Swelling?"

Nick gulped. "It's kinda sore, yeah."

"Aches and pains?"

"My legs, they're kind of achy, a little weak even." Nick dropped onto a kitchen stool. "Now that I think about it, there was this woman with a weird rash on her face at the urgent care place."

"Uh oh, what kind of rash?" Greg couldn't resist having a little fun. "It wasn't a red bumpy one with little blisters, was it?"

"Uh…" The hypochondriac cleared his throat. "I didn't get real close, but it was red, and bumpy, and I think there could have been blisters, yeah. Is that bad? What causes that kind of rash? Is it contagious?"

"Are you worried it's flesh-eating bacteria?" Greg struggled not to laugh. "Hey, did you notice if the woman had a fresh manicure and/or pedicure? Because nail salons are breeding grounds for," he copped an ominous tone, "deadly Necrotizing Fasciitis."

"I…I can't remember, I wasn't lookin' at her hands and feet, because I was so freaked out by the scary rash and I was really distracted because people were hacking up lungs all around me, but yeah, the rash was definitely red with pus bubbles, I can see it now." His panic mounting, Nick reached for the cordless phone sitting on the counter. "If it was flesh-eating bacteria, they woulda reported it to the CDC, right? Maybe I'll call them and say it's for a case. I wonder if Grissom has any symptoms? Maybe I should call him first and…"

"Relax, Cletus." Greg snatched the phone. "I was describing Chicken Pox."

"What? Why the hell did you go and make me all paranoid?!"

After strategically moving out of arm's reach, the smart ass answered, "Because it's incredibly easy and fun."

"You're an asshole."

Greg kept laughing. "Have you had Chicken Pox?"

"Yes!" Nick snipped, feeling ridiculous for falling for the joke.

"Seriously, don't worry, it's probably just a run of the mill virus, there's a bunch of stuff going around." Greg moved to the fridge. "I bought some organic OJ yesterday. I'll get you a glass and a couple of Advil. If you're worse after shift, I'll make up for being a smart ass by brewing up a batch of Nana Olaf's chicken soup. She'd always say…two servings and you're on you're way back to health."

Watching his housemate pour juice, Nick shared, "My Grandma Kay made the best chicken soup. She used those really thick noodles." His mind flooded with fond memories. "Whenever one of us kids was real sick, she'd bring over a pot…yeah, I miss her, she was great. My mom is carryin' on the chicken soup tradition with her grandkids now."

"How many grandkids do your parents have?"

"Uh, two of my sisters are pregnant, so after those babies are born, it'll be up to eighteen."

"Whoa."

"Yeah, I'll be an uncle eighteen times over by Thanksgiving." He quietly said, "My brother has four and never misses an opportunity to tell me how far behind him I am."

Greg placed a glass of OJ and two Advil on the counter and reclaimed his seat.

"Thanks." After chugging half the juice, Nick asked, "Hey, is your Nana Olaf still alive? You talk about her all the time, but…"

"No." While continuing to type on the laptop, Greg shook his head, "No, she passed away when I was in my junior year at Stanford, within a month of my grandfather. They were inseparable, so it didn't come as a big surprise that one couldn't go on without the other. It was really hard on my mom, because they lived with us and she had been taking care of them, not that she minded, because my mom's a big time nurturer. Yeah, Jan's not happy unless she's nurturing someone. First she was a stay at home mom with me. Then just as I went to college, she became a stay at home daughter for her parents." Sighing, he said, "When they died, she was literally home alone for the first time ever. I mean, she still had my dad, but she didn't have anyone to dote on. My dad, he's a Structural Engineer by the way, I don't know if I ever mentioned that, he had just started his own firm the year before, so he was working really long hours. His firm specializes in retrofitting old buildings with seismic upgrades. In California there's huge money in that business and he's loaded now, but it wasn't always that way. When the firm took off, he wasn't about to risk losing money to hold my mother's hand. Not that he didn't love her, he did, he still does….hell, he'd have to or he would have been gone a loooong time ago. One day he called me at Stanford and begged me to take a semester off and stay home with her. You know, just till she got back on her feet. Since I started college a year early, it wasn't a big deal, and how was I supposed to say no, when she had just spent the last twenty years of her life taking care of me, right? That's why I did it, not because I wanted to. I mean I wanted to help, because it's hard to turn your back on a person who gave up her dreams to stay home and raise you, right? So, I couldn't say no. I mean, I **could have**, but it was my time to give back to her, and accepted that even though I would have rather been at Stanford with people my own age, being a normal guy, instead of my mother's babysitter."

Just as Nick was finally about to get a word in, Greg resumed talking.

"My dad bought me a car as a thank you, which was totally unnecessary, but totally cool." Typing on his laptop while mindlessly rambling, he shared, "In California, your car defines who you are, not that I knew who I was back then…not that I've figured it out all that well since either. When I couldn't decide on a car, my dad ended up surprising me. He bought me this tricked out Toyota Celica with pop up headlights, the works. It was totally rad, and I couldn't wait to drive my hot new wheels around town and impress people. I was **positive **the car would change everything and my social life would finally be off the hook." Rolling his eyes, he shared, "Unfortunately, my mom wanted to go everywhere with me, and it's hard to feel cool when you have your clinically depressed mother in the passenger seat. So, even though I had the wheels, I couldn't get a date. Thank God I had cable in my room and a lock on my door," he laughed.

Unable to break in verbally, Nick reached over and tapped his verbose housemate on the shoulder. "G…"

Greg stopped talking and turned to meet Nick's gaze. "Yeah?"

"When I asked if your grandmother was living, I kinda assumed it would be a yes or no answer. I hate to cut you off, really I do, but I'm not ready for work like you are. I still need to grab a shower."

"Oh." Greg flustered, "I can't believe I was rambling on like that about my mommy. Like you wanted to hear all that, like **anyone **would. Sorry."

"It's okay, really."

"I guess it's no surprise why I don't get second dates, huh?" Greg rolled his eyes. "Yeah, after telling that story and outing myself as a mama's boy, I usually delve into 'how I won the Science Fair seven years in a row while running the Chess Club full time'. God, I'm such a loser. You should get some earplugs to wear around here."

"I already have, man. I wear 'em whenever you're singin'." After a wink, Nick started out of the room, "Hey, if it will make you feel better, I'll bring a 12-pack home after shift and make you listen to me ramble on about my obnoxious big brother while we drink. Then we'll be even."

Relieved the awkwardness was over, Greg returned to his work on the laptop. "Sounds great to me."

* * *

"I think I'm coming down with something." Gil entered the kitchen clutching his forehead. "At first I thought it was a migraine coming on, but it's not." 

Sitting at the kitchen counter using her laptop to surf Amazon, Sara flatly replied with her eyes on the screen, "That stinks."

"Yeah." Smiling, he stepped closer. "Good morning by the way."

"Oh." The bookworm pulled her gaze away from the computer. "Sorry, I was checking out this…"

"It's okay." With a smirk plastered to his face, he took a seat on the empty kitchen stool next to her. "Just for the record…back when you were focused on me and I was confused about us, I know I suggested you find other interests, but now that we're together, feel free to renew your obsession."

"Apparently your weakened condition hasn't spread to your ego." Grabbing his hand, she made up for her relationship faux-pas. "Good morning."

"I wouldn't kiss me," he said, thinking of potential germ transfer. "I could be contagious."

"Yeah, and thankfully we've had no time for sex the past seventy-two hours."

"There's something I don't want to hear too frequently."

"Me either, loverboy." Noting the bags under her man's eyes Sara realized he wasn't kidding about feeling sick. "You really do look awful."

"Is this an attempt to bring my over inflated ego down a peg, or are you serious?"

"No, you're seriously awful looking."

"I think I might have a fever actually."

"I hope not." Sara left her stool to take her plate of toast crumbs to the sink.

Gil pressed the back of his hand to his forehead just like his mother always did when she thought he looked feverish. "Hmm, could you feel my forehead and see what you think? Because I think…"

"What are you, five?" Entertained by her usually mature man's backslide into childhood, Sara burst into a hardy chuckle. "We're scientists, we don't guess, we use equipment. Go take your temperature with a thermometer."

"I don't have one."

"I do." Sara started for the bathroom. "You can use mine."

"It's not rectal, is it?" he laughed in spite of his headache.

"Yes, it is." Recalling the Bruce Eiger case, she joked from the doorway, "I thought it was about time I shared my desire to incorporate mommy-baby play into our relationship. Give me a sec to put on my nanny outfit, and I'll take your rectal temperature, Sweet Cheeks."

"On second thought, maybe you should have moved in with Greg!" Alone in the kitchen with his significant other's laptop, Gil couldn't resist taking a peek at the screen. "Hmm…"

"Relieved to find I was on Amazon and not an Infantilism forum?" Sara asked upon returning a minute later. Shaking her head, she handed over her oral thermometer to her nosy roommate. "You're busted, Snoopy."

"My curiosity knows no bounds unfortunately." Taking the thermometer he gave a penitent nod. "I'm very sorry for snooping."

"Forgiven." She returned to her stool. "You know how I can't resist crime fiction novels. I heard Nick talking about this book and I told him from the sound of it, I'd like to buy it."

"Nick reads books?" When he found himself on the receiving end of a glare, he chuckled, "Wow, I'm scoring all kinds of points with you this morning, aren't I?"

"Yeah, but not the right kind."

"How's this?" Gil shoved the thermometer in his mouth.

"Much better." Wearing a fresh smile, Sara returned to reading the screen. "What's the verdict?" she asked upon hearing the digital thermometer's beep.

"99.4."

Sara clicked to purchase the book. "Bummer."

Gil huffed, "Nick and I spent hours at that Urgent Care place on Ray and Westin the other day. It's very plausible that I could have picked up something there."

"Uh oh."

"What?"

"People might get suspicious if I get what you have, because I never get sick." Worried their relationship would be discovered, she suggested, "When we're at work tonight, why don't you make a point of accidentally sneezing near me in front of everyone. That way, if I get sick, I can say 'remember when Grissom sneezed on me?'."

"You want me to look like an ill-mannered sneezer on the off chance you might get sick in the near future? **That's** your best ruse, Harvard?"

Laughing at his new nickname for her, she said, "Not an **ill-mannered** sneeze, make it one of those sneezes that just catches you off guard so you didn't have time to politely step away." Watching him gape, she said, "Okay, fine, I'll take the hit. I'll pick up your coffee, sip it, and then I'll realize my mistake."

"But you may really get sick if you drink my coffee and I'm contagious."

"Not if you don't drink the coffee before I sip it."

"How are you theoretically going to catch my germs if I haven't sipped the coffee?"

"See! This is why the spontaneous uncontrollable sneeze plan was better."

"No, it's flawed, because if I sneeze near you, you could really catch my germs."

"This is pathetic," she laughed at herself and her co-conspirator. "People get away with murder in this town, and two well-educated Criminalists can't pull off a feigned germ transfer?"

Before Gil could reply, he forcefully sneezed.

"Did you really need to practice your sneeze?" Sara hurried to the sink to wash her arm, which was coated in droplets. "Gross."

"No, that was real." Embarrassed, he snatched a couple of napkins from the dispenser on the counter and used them to clean himself up. "I'm so sorry, that was incredibly nasty."

"I'll say!"

"I'm really sick, I wasn't pretending." Watching his significant other grimace as she disinfected her arm, he joked, "You're not much of a nurturer, are you, Honey?"

"What?! Are youseriously used to being coddled after sneezing?"

"Does my mommy making me chicken soup whenever I got a cold count?" He couldn't resist one more tease. "Hey, I know you're a vegetarian, so maybe you can make me minestrone."

"Make up your mind." She laughed in his face, "First you're all anti-infantilism, but now you're longing for me to be your soup cooking mommy and spoon-feed you."

"Not spoon feed, but…."

"The only things my mommy taught me to make were cocktails and ice packs. I can mix you a top notch vodka tonic to deaden the pain, and if you…" she used air quotes, "'accidentally walk into a door and give yourself a black eye', I'll be able to make you a great compress."

Gil's laughter ceased. "I'm sorry, Honey, I didn't mean to…"

"It's okay, really." She slapped on a smile. "I'm fine. Sometimes I get defensive about family stuff without even knowing it's happening. I…um…can we just drop it?"

"Consider it dropped."

"Thank you." She started for the bedroom. "If I don't grab a shower and get ready for work, I'll be late."

"Honey…" Gil treaded carefully. "Hey, if I'm feeling up to it, how about we go out after shift?"

"Are you getting cabin fever with me already?" She couldn't believe it was happening so fast.

"No," he flashed a sweet smile. "I just thought it would be nice to go out like couples who don't live in fear of getting busted do. There's this place in Boulder City that I like and I've never seen anyone I know eating there. They have great vegetarian selections. We can sit down and talk about things we want to talk about, or we talk about the things we want the other person to know **not **to talk about." He scratched his head. "Do you know what I'm talking about?"

The explanation allaying her fears, Sara nodded. "Sounds great to me."

* * *

"Hey!" Catherine hurried over to Warrick, who was just closing his locker. "Sign this." 

"What's this?" He took the folder she was waving. "Are you divorcing me too?"

"Huh?" Noting his blank stare, she asked, "Do you mean…"

"I didn't think I said that out loud." Exhausted from hours of arguing with Tina, he leaned against the row of lockers. "She told me to expect papers, because she's through." He shrugged. "She's said that at least once a month since we got married, but this time…I told her I'm through too." He looked to his long-time friend for empathy. "I don't know how you felt when you split with Eddie, who was an obvious asshole, but for me, even though I **know** Tina's a lying, unreasonable bitch, and I'm pretty sure has been screwing her Ex, I still feel like a failure. I feel like the one person I swore I'd never be…my old man. He walked out on my mom and never looked back."

While successfully masking her excitement, Catherine sympathized, "You can't compare yourself to your father. You don't have a kid in the mix, and your mother was a saint from what you've told me." _Tina is a skank_. "It's apples to oranges, Warrick. We all know that under the right circumstances, you're a stand up guy."

"I appreciate that." He nodded. "And if it's okay, I really don't want to talk about it anymore. At least not today, and don't tell anyone else, I'm not ready to…"

"You got it."

"Thanks." Reaching into the folder he pulled out a yellow envelope. "So, whose birthday is it?"

"It's not a birthday card, it's a…uh, it's actually a card that you probably don't want to read today."

"Now I have to." He read it, and then asked, "Enjoy the gift? What gift?"

"I bought the boys a blender."

"This'll be good, and I need a laugh." He signed his name and returned the card to the folder. "Too bad you didn't get a cake, 'cause I'm starving."

"I did!" Catherine giddily confirmed as they walked out of the locker room side by side. "It has two grooms on top. The bakery even managed to find a spiky-haired one and a dark-haired jock type."

"Let me guess…fruit filling?"

"No, chocolate," she sighed, "I was PMSing."

* * *

"Cake!" Nick reacted like one of Pavlov's dogs when he saw the string-tied pink box on the conference room table. "And a gift." He turned to his buddy. "G, it's not your birthday, is it? I know it's in the Spring, but I'm really bad at rememberin' dates." 

"No, mine's May 7th."

"Right, right."

Greg plopped into a chair and put his feet up. "A gift card to Best Buy would be great, thanks."

"Duly noted." As Nick sipped his hot tea, he repeated the date in his head a few times, hoping he'd remember it. "Well, then whose birthday is it? 'Rick and Sara's are in the Fall, Griss's is the day before mine, and Cath just had hers. Wait…when's Hodges's?"

Greg matter-of-factly replied, "Sadly, they didn't have time to put his birth records in the escape pod before his planet was destroyed."

Nick choked on his tea, almost spitting it. "Don't say funny shit when I'm drinking." His curiosity getting the best of him, he attempted to peek inside the box, but it was wrapped too tightly.

"Hey!" Cath yelled at the sneak. "Where are your manners, Stokes?! You have to wait for the rest of us." As Grissom, Sara and Warrick filed in with her, she stuck the card on the gift. "Take a seat everyone."

Before Sara left his side, Grissom released their agreed upon fake sneeze.

"Oh!" Sara zoomed away.

"Sorry, I'm very sorry." Grissom reached for the tissues pre-loaded in his pocket. "I'm coming down with something."

_Here we go._ Greg counted down. _3, 2, 1, let's hear it, Cletus._

"I'm sick too, Griss!" Nick pointed at his sniffly co-worker. "I think we caught something when we were at that friggin' Urgent Care place from hell. That place was crawling with germs, remember? Rashes, productive coughs, vomiting…frickin' small pox for all we know."

"Would you stop!" As Greg pressed the back of his hand to Nick's forehead, he informed the group, "He was obsessing about this at home too." Removing his hand, he assured his agitated buddy, "Dude, your fever is gone, so chill out."

When Sara caught her secret lover's reaction to the 'back of the hand fever check' that he had been denied from her earlier, she burst out laughing_. Maybe you're the one who should have moved in with Greg. _

"Stop laughin' at me, Sidle!" Nick pointed a finger. "You're a compulsive hand washer, so don't throw stones."

"I wasn't laughing at you."

"Then what were you laughin' at?"

"Yeah, Sidle?" Grissom prodded, "What's so funny?"

"If you must know," Sara stalled, "I was thinking that Greg sounded like your wife just now." She mimicked him, "'He was obsessing about this at home too'." As everyone laughed, she said to Nick, "Aren't you glad you asked?"

Seeing a perfect segue, Catherine brandished her scissors and cut the cake box string. "Surprise!" The shocked looks on her cohabitating co-workers' faces were priceless. "This is even better than I thought it would be. Which one of you wants to open the gift? And there's no cake until you do!"

Well versed in all traditions, Grissom instructed, "It's customary for the groom to read the card while the bride opens the gift."

"Am I late?!" Brass rushed into the conference room.

Catherine waved him over, "Just in time."

Warrick handed the card to Nick. "I'm going to make a not-so-bold assumption here and guess that Greggy is the wife."

Nick snatched the card. "If I wasn't starvin' for that cake, I wouldn't be playin' along."

"Awww, didn't the wife make your favorite burrito this morning?" Sara needled.

"Cute." One look at the card, and the Texan tossed it. "I am **not **reading that out loud."

"I will!" Jim grabbed the Hallmark and read with glee, "Congratulations to the happy couple! Wishing you a lifetime full of happy memories, long on laughter, short on tears, may your love endure through the years! Nick and Greg we are thrilled for you. Enjoy the gift!"

"It's a blender. Cool!" Greg excitedly told the gift givers, "This is great, because mine just broke."

"No, no, no, don't encourage them, Sanders, they'll…" Nick sneezed uncontrollably. "Dammit! I'm tellin' ya, Griss, we got sick workin' that case."

Knowing the Texan's penchant for paranoia, Brass anxiously asked, "Hey, seriously…you guys didn't work that case at the Urgent Care last week, did you? Because I just found out there was a patient there with Bubonic Plague."

"What?!" Nick jumped up from his chair. Then he saw Jim laugh. "Okay, okay, are we done with amateur comedy hour?"

"Yes, you've been very good sports." Catherine declared, "Let them eat cake."

"Just don't let Stokes blow out the candles," Jim advised. "All jokes about him being sick aside, we don't know what he's been doing at home with the missus."

As the conference room shook with laughter, Grissom's cell phone rang. "Hold it down while I take this call." He moved to the corner of the room.

"I'm keeping the gift," Greg whispered to the group. "I like smoothies and I don't have one."

Jim leaned in, "I'll buy Stokes an electric razor for his birthday, maybe that'll help get rid of the stubble."

Everyone laughed into their hands.

"I'm afraid the party's over, people." When Grissom rejoined the group, all the joy in his face and voice were gone. "Multi vehicle accident, including a school bus of junior high students on their way to a field trip. There are multiple fatalities and no one knows what happened."

"Damn." Warrick stood, ready for what he knew would be heartbreaking work. "Remember that bus crash about five years back? If it's anything like that, this is gonna be rough."

"Yeah, and that bus wasn't packed with kids." Grissom turned for the door. "Good thing we got some laughs when we had the chance, because we won't be smiling again for a while."

* * *

**ANs: **

Lots of comparisons and contrasts in here, some subtle, some not. For instance, Greg is a natural nurturer because of his mother's influence vs. poor Sara who wasn't nurtured growing up and has no instincts. There will be many more.

I was asked in an email to explain what I meant about the Nick and Greg scenes having subtext because they weren't touching or doing anything slashy. Just to clarify for anyone else that may be confused, what I meant by the scenes can be read in different ways is that you can read them at face value, or you can read between the lines. A good example in this chapter is the following bit:

"_I guess it's no surprise why I don't get second dates, huh?" Greg rolled his eyes. "Yeah, after telling that story and outing myself as a mama's boy, I usually delve into 'how I won the Science Fair seven years in a row while running the Chess Club full time'. God, I'm such a loser. You should get some earplugs to wear around here." _

"_I already have, man. I wear 'em whenever you're singin'." After a wink, Nick started out of the room, "Hey, if it will make you feel better, I'll bring a 12-pack home after shift and make you listen to me ramble on about my obnoxious big brother while we drink. Then we'll be even." _

_Relieved the awkwardness was over, Greg returned to his work on the laptop. "Sounds great to me." _

1st Interpretation (No Slash) – Geeky Greg rambles like he always does, and being a guy who always says what he thinks, he calls himself a loser and advises his housemate to get earplugs. Nick feels bad for the poor geek boy, knowing the guy is feeling like an idiot (because, wow! He really is a sad little mama's boy who needs some SERIOUS help). Nick empathizes as a buddy and says don't worry, I do the same thing bitching about my obnoxious brother, so don't feel bad. Nick offers to bring beer home and share it with Greg like guys do (maybe coach him on what to say and not to say to the ladies). Greg likes beer and is happy that Nick is finally treating him like Warrick or the other cool guys and says 'sounds great to me'.

2nd Interpretation (Greg wishes) – Greg says he doesn't get 2nd dates after telling the story he just told, implying that he was talking to Nick like he would talk to a date. Greg doesn't use a gender, he just says 'dates', implying that the dates could have been male or female. Will Nick pick up on that? Greg tosses out 2 self-deprecating statements, and like anyone who does that, he's hoping he'll get compliments in return: 'God, I'm such a loser' and 'You should get earplugs'. He's hoping that Nick replies 'I don't think you're a loser. I don't mind listening'. He doesn't get either of those hopeful replies which makes him feel awkward (we know this because the last line says he was relieved the awkwardness was over. For it to be over, it had to be there). Then Nick teases him that he has already bought earplugs and wears them whenever Greg is singing. Is that making fun of a friend or is it a flirt? Is the wink significant? Greg has learned that Nick's been paying attention enough to catch him singing around the house. Then Nick says he'll bring home a 12 pack to drink together while he rambles about his brother. Woo hoo! For the first time** ever**, Greg was granted a second date after telling the story that's makes everyone else run away screaming 'don't call me'. Nick also adds 'then we'll be even'…is this his way of saying 'You'll see I'm feeling the same way as you and want to get to know you on a more personal level'? After Nick's reply, Greg is relieved and confirms 'sounds great to me' or another way of saying 'I would love to' or 'It's a date!'.

3rd Interpretation (Greg is hopeful but isn't pushing, Nick's in denial) – Greg tosses out the 'I don't get 2nd dates' line and the self-deprecating statements hoping for some confirmation from Nick. Nick doesn't acknowledge anything directly, but subconsciously flirts (the tease about ear plugs and the wink). He wants to keep talking to Greg on a personal level and comes up with forcing his housemate to listen to him bitch about his brother so they'll be even. He can't just say 'I like talking to you about this stuff and want to continue later' because guys don't do that and I don't know why I want to get closer to you, but I just do. Greg is relieved that Nick didn't shut him down, and he casually replies 'sounds great to me'.

I hope that helps clarify how I'm writing those scenes at the moment.

Thanks for reading!  
**Maggs**


	6. Chapter 6: Fever All Through the Night 1

**Where You Are**

**Written By:** **Ms Maggs ****/ Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 6: Fever All Through the Night – Part 1**

"It's hard to believe it's been five years since that bus accident." Sitting in the passenger seat of Grissom's Denali, Sara focused on the clear blue sky as they drove on the I-15. "It seems like yesterday."

"That was a rough night." Gil remembered it all too well.

"It was Greg's first time in the field." A smile popped up on Sara's face. "He was terrified. He was also freezing to death, because in his excitement to get there and be part of the action, he forgot to grab a coat."

"After that experience, I was sure he'd be content in the lab for the rest of his life."

"Hey, were you jealous of him this morning?" Sara asked in a curious tone.

"Of Greg?" Gil laughed at the notion. "No. What made you think I was jealous?"

"Not jealous of Greg, jealous that we have to hide our relationship while Greg and Nick can say they're living together."

"Ah, I see what you're asking." He joked, "No, I'm not jealous, because I'd rather live secretly with you, than live openly with Greg, and not just because of the sexual ramifications, I think he'd be a highly irritating roomie whose music would annoy the hell out of me."

Sara savored what she knew would be the last minutes of laughter for a while.

"Technically we don't have to hide our relationship, Sara." Gil pulled the truck to the side of the road to let a slew of emergency vehicles pass. "But if we went public, aside from the teasing we'd have to endure, Ecklie would remove you from the team. That's not a price I want to pay, do you?"

"Definitely not." Sara smiled at her secret lover. "I wouldn't have minded a new blender though."

"I thought Greg's reaction to the gift was quite…" he raised a brow, "…interesting."

"I thought Nick would strangle Catherine."

"Thought or hoped?" Gil teased.

"Don't go there." Sara rolled her eyes. "I just hate how she has to be in everyone's business. If the boys were really a couple, she'd be stirring her coffee asking them who was the bottom last night."

"Honey, she's been like that since the day I met her, she's not going to change. People never do."

"You're right, she's been bugging me for details of my sex life since I arrived in Vegas." Sara eagerly shared, "The other day we were getting coffee and she was telling me how worried she was that Lindsay was sexually active. She looks up and says 'how old were you when you gave it up? Like I would share that with her, in the breakroom of all places, with **Nick** resting on the couch."

"How old were you?"

"How old were you?"

"Fifty." Gil winked at his lover. "Thanks for making it so special."

After laughing at the lie, Sara quietly shared, "Okay, fine, I'll go first. I was eighteen. His name was Leo. I met him in Physics 15b, Introductory Electromagnetism, but it was hardly a strong attraction." Shaking her head at the memory of her first lover, she said, "Leo was my equal in many ways…academically brilliant, socially inept, and sexually frustrated. Love didn't bring us together, mutual desperation did. Neither of us had any experience, and I do mean **none**, but somehow we managed to fall on top of each other and get the job done." Now she could laugh. "It was as romantic as it sounds too. Actually, I shouldn't complain, because Leo was very sweet, and lots of girls have nasty first times. After we were done, he took me out for ice cream."

"Now I'm jealous."

"Why?" Sara chuckled, "Because you didn't get to be my first? Aww."

"No, although, I certainly would have been thrilled. No, I'm jealous because my first time was a nightmare."

"Details please. How old were you?"

"Twenty two." Pulling over to let another round of emergency personnel by, he slipped into the memory. "Her name was Carol. She was in Bio 101 and I was the grad student assigned to the lab."

"So, you have a lengthy history of coming on to younger women under your supervision. Hmm."

"I guess so," he laughed lightly. "I asked her to dinner, which went reasonably well. She was pre-med, so we had plenty to talk about and by the time the meal was over, she was highly impressed with my brain."

"I know the feeling." Sara tossed a smile in Dr. Grissom's direction. "I fell head over heels during our impromptu lunch after listening to you lecture at Berkeley."

"And the only reason I **kept** your respect that day was because I didn't sleep with you."

"Okay, tell me the nightmare part."

"I took Carol to my place." Back on the road, he stared at the horizon and traveled back in time. "She was the first woman I had ever brought to my off campus apartment, so I was nervous, but I had watched enough movies to theoretically know how to put the moves on a lady. I managed to fake it extraordinarily well, so well, that she expected me to be good in bed."

"So, the movies you had watched…none of them were porn, huh?"

"Sara…" Gil droned, "I was a Biology grad student, it wasn't a matter of knowing **where **to put it, I just didn't know what to say or how to finesse it. After we finish having what** I** thought was amazing, mind-blowing sex, Carol says 'was this your first time or are you **always** that bad in bed?'"

"She did not."

"Oh yes, she did." He shivered, "Trust me, her voice and those words echo in my head to this day."

"What did she do after that?"

"Dropped my lab class. Thank God, because I really couldn't imagine tutoring her on reproduction after that night." Sighing, he added, "You know me…I don't like to be inferior at something, no, so I saved up some money, went out to the Chicken Ranch and obtained professional instruction, vowing never to be on the receiving end of such a self-esteem crushing statement ever again."

"HA!" Sara covered her mouth as her laughter built.

"Now you know where I learned my moves."

"What was her name? I'd like to send her a thank you note."

"Aurora."

"Like Sleeping Beauty."

"Yes, and at first that was awkward, because my mother had read me that story as a boy, but once Aurora started stripping I was able to separate her from the chaste princess character and leave my Oedipal concerns behind."

"Your mother read you Sleeping Beauty? But it's a princess story."

"She read me all the classic fairy tales." Reaching out, he gave Sara's hand a squeeze. "That's how I learned how to help damsels in distress."

The words resonated with Sara. "Is that what I am to you?"

"What?" The question had come out of left field.

"I get it…I shed a few tears and you swept me away to your metaphorical castle." Staring out the window, she said, "This is a great morning. First I find out that Greg kicks my ass at nurturing, and now I realize I'm your damsel in distress. It's kind of an eclectic combination, isn't it? Distressed damsels are typically vapid women with no career options other than nurturing their Prince and the babies they have together. At least I'm uniquely pathetic."

"I never said you were a damsel in distress."

"You squeezed my hand when you said 'that's how I learned to help damsels in distress'."

"I squeezed your hand because I felt close to you after sharing something very personal that I have never shared with anyone ever before."

"Then it was subconscious," Sara confirmed while lowering her head. "Considering the amount of tears I've shed in front of you…I don't blame you for thinking I'm a helpless little girl."

"Shedding tears doesn't make you weak, it makes you human." His voice softened, "Everyone cries, Sara, some people hid it, others don't." He gave her hand another squeeze. "I'm flattered that you feel safe enough with me to cry in my arms."

Glancing up, she saw they had arrived at the scene of the tragedy. "Thanks for clearing that up, because I think I may shed a few tonight."

"I think we all will."

The site of a mom sobbing over a body bag sent a shiver through her spine. "I think you're right."

* * *

"It's hard to believe it's been five years since that bus accident." Sitting in the passenger seat of Nick's Denali, Greg focused on the clear blue sky as they drove on the I-15. "It seems like yesterday." 

"That was your first time in the field." Nick shook his head, "God you were greener than green that night."

"Yeah, you'll be happy to know that unlike last time, I have a warm jacket in my duffel bag, so I won't freeze my ass off when the temperature drops tonight." As his team mate sneezed furiously, Greg reached for a wad of tissues. "Here."

"Thanks, man."

"Grissom assigned me to be your note-taking lackey last time, remember?"

"Yeah, good thing he picked me too, because 'Rick would have tore you to shreds that night." After blowing his nose one more time, Nick recalled, "You kept gettin' overwhelmed and zonin' out, and you were shakin' so hard all the notes you took for me were chicken scratch."

The memory playing like a movie in his mind, Greg shared, "Yeah, I was much more Boy Blunder to your Batman than Boy Wonder. You were in superhero mode, volunteering for anything difficult or dangerous, and staying calm, cool and collected as guys were collapsing and bleeding out in front of you, while your sidekick just stood in your shadow shaking from fear and reeking of incompetence."

"Hey, it's hard to be good at something you've never done before," Nick joked, "at least that's what I tried to tell Missy Melrose in the back of my Daddy's Ford when our first time sucked."

Greg laughed before asking, "Did she buy it?"

"No."

"What happened?"

"No way, it's too pathetic."

"After I told you my mama's boy story, pathetic is relative." Greg nudged him. "Come on…a good story will take my mind off what's ahead."

"Tell anyone and you're a dead man." Nick took a second to back up the statement with a glare. "I'm serious; I've never told anyone."

"Scouts honor." Greg even made the pledge sign. "And I was an Eagle Scout, remember?"

"Hey, was your mom your den mother too?"

"What do you think?"

"Damn. Okay, yeah, you deserve a good story." Nick channeled the horrible memory. "Okay, so after a bunch of Saturday nights tryin' to make it, Missy finally gives me the green light to go for home. I'm thrilled, because my idiot big brother has been bustin' me for still bein' a virgin. He kept sayin' 'out of the seven of us kids, Nicky, I guess you're the token queer'. He lost his at fifteen, and couldn't understand why I was takin' so long to follow in his footsteps."

"How old were you?"

"Eighteen, senior year of high school. You?"

"Now remember, if my clinically depressed mother hadn't been hurting my chances at a social life it would have been much sooner, but since she was…" Greg mumbled, "Twenty two."

"Hey, there's nothin' wrong with waitin' for the right girl."

"Yeah, well…I didn't wait for the right girl. I did it with Cinderella."

"Cinderella?" Nick laughed at the name. "Seriously? Her parents named her after a Disney character."

Greg sheepishly admitted, "No, that was her professional name."

"A professional." Nick didn't mask his surprise. "A legal professional I hope."

"Totally. I inherited a bunch of cash from my grandparents, so money was no object. I went to the Bunny Ranch, rented one of their best babes for the day, and made up for some lost time. Cinderella was great," he chuckled, "she guaranteed her prince would come, or he'd get his money back."

Nick laughed himself into a coughing fit.

"It worked." Handing over a cough drop, Greg said, "Before I went to the Bunny Ranch, chicks could smell my desperation a mile away and wanted nothing to do with me. Once the desperation stench was gone, I finally got some action on my own."

"Was Cinderella worth the big bucks I'm sure she conned you out of?"

"Technically speaking she was great. I paid for the ultimate party and she made sure I got a taste of everything there was and she gave me plenty of tips to use in the future, but…" Greg shrugged, "I know this will sound very 'After School Special', but honestly, I would have preferred a real experience for my first time, even if we were both clueless and fumbling through it. I should have waited."

"You think so, huh? Okay, we'll see if you still feel that way after you hear my story."

Knowing they were only about ten minutes from the site, Greg kicked back to enjoy what would be the last minutes of levity for a while.

"So there we are in the back of my father's car and she says 'Patti and Monica went all the way with their boyfriends last night, so I want to go all the way tonight.' I am too excited to reply with words, all I do is nod my head and dive into my pocket for a condom."

"It doesn't surprise me that you were prepared."

"Yeah, my brother had been slappin' condoms in my hand since I was fourteen." Staring at the road, Nick continued down bad memory lane, "All I can think about is tellin' my brother how I popped two cherries at once, and finally getting him off my back about bein' queer. I'm so excited to get the job done, that I actually finish upon entering."

"Ha!"

"And there's Missy expectin' this great experience and I'm already done. I decide not to let on and hope that I recharge ASAP, but I was overthinkin' it, and when I overthink it…"

"Yeah," Greg empathized with a laugh. "Me too."

"Missy's like, 'I thought it would feel better', and just as she says that…the condom slips off inside her, spillin' my soldiers everywhere."

"Oh!"

"She freaks, I freak." Nick winced at the memory. "We're in a confined space, remember? During the panic, I hit my head on the ceiling, just as she knees me in the balls. As I'm keeled over tryin' to breath, she grabs my clothes and a can of the beer we were drinkin' illegally to clean her self up. I didn't bring any extra clothes and by the time she was done, my clothes and my dad's car were covered in sperm and Budweiser."

"Okay, yeah, I'm starting to feel better about my Disney experience."

Nick flashed a sarcastic smile, "I didn't get to the best part yet."

"Uh oh."

"Understandably, she was scared to death that she'd get pregnant. I was too. She was screamin' and sobbin' that our lives would be over and her daddy would kill me."

Pretending there was a shotgun in his hand, Greg pointed it at his buddy. "Don't knock up a redneck's baby girl."

"That's exactly how it woulda went down too, let me tell ya. Missy's dad was a hardcore rancher and he would have strung me up by my balls." After stopping to blow his nose, Nick finished the story, "She had me so terrified, I felt sick. When I got out of the car to puke, she took off and left me there. Naked in the middle of nowhere."

"And you were like…in Deliverance country."

"Uh huh, and when a beat up old pick up came down the road, I shit bricks that Billy Bob and his friends were gonna take me for a ride." Nick shivered, "Luckily it was this nice old man who had a similar experience with a girl named Melanie before he left for World War II. He had some coveralls in the back of his truck for me to put on and he gave me a ride to Missy's house. I saw my dad's car around the corner and drove it to the car wash." Sighing, he shared, "After a week of sweatin' buckets, Missy got her period and she never spoke to me again."

"That's a great story." Greg smiled at his buddy before returning his gaze to the passenger window, "I'd trade Cinderella for that in a heartbeat, because as bad as it was, at least was real."

"I guess you could look at it that way," Nick shrugged. "How the hell did we get on this topic anyway?"

"We were discussing how pathetic my first field experience was."

"Right." Nick popped another cough drop in his mouth. "Five years ago you were Boy Blunder, but now you're a superhero. Yeah, you earned your cape the second you put your own safety aside and took action to save a guy's life."

"I have to tell you, I'm not really feeling the superhero vibe." Greg shook his head. "Mayor Gordon of Gotham City never paid The Riddler's family 2.5 mil because of Batman's actions, did he? No, the only thing the Sheriff of Clark County wants me wearing around town is a cloak of invisibility."

The distinct sound of helicopters startled them both.

"Evac choppers." Greg abruptly changed the subject and his tone, "It's such a gorgeous day. Doesn't that seem wrong for a tragedy?"

"Yeah," Nick somberly replied, following his buddy's redirect. "Those kids were probably sittin' on that bus psyched that they got such a beautiful day for their field trip, happy that they weren't going to be wastin' it in class. I lived for field trip days when I was in school, didn't you?"

"Yes and no."

Nick waited for an explanation, and when it didn't come, he prodded, "Aren't you gonna tell me why?" He pulled the truck off to the side to let a battalion of fire trucks pass.

"Sorry, I thought it was supposed to be a yes or no answer, like the grandmother question this morning."

"If you answered 'yes'** or** 'no', but you answered 'yes** and **no', so that requires explanation. Actually, 'no' would have required an explanation too, because everyone loved field trip days and I wouldn't have understood a 'no' answer either."

"Okay, here's my expanded answer." After a quick breath in and out, Greg said, "Yes, I loved field trips, because it was fun going some place cool and not being in class. No, I hated field trips, because from kindergarten through senior year, my mother was a chaperone on **every **field trip, and she insisted on sitting next to me on the bus** every** time, which was totally humiliating."

"Seriously? She didn't sit with another mom?" With the four trucks and two ambulances on their way, Nick resumed driving. "That's what my mom always did. I mean, she didn't get to come to many because of her career, but she came to a few over the years."

"Sometimes, we didn't even ride the bus. If the bus driver looked too old, or too shady, or the route to the place was too dangerous in her opinion, I had to ride in my mom's car with her and meet the rest of the class there."

"Why?"

With the horrific accident scene in full view, Greg gulped, "She was scared to death the bus would crash and I'd be killed."

His stomach twisting at the site of six mangled vehicles, including two mini-vans, Nick asked, "Where's the school bus?"

"There." Greg pointed. "There's a break in the safety rail, I think the bus went over the edge." Blood draining from his face as emergency personnel raced by with a supply of black body bags, Greg said, "I think we're looking at my mother's worst nightmare."

Watching a woman sobbing uncontrollably over a body bag, Nick gulped, "I think you're right."

* * *

After feverishly working for ten grueling hours to rescue and treat victims, and clear the accident site of hazards, Fire Chief Rich Swanson declared the mountain pass road safe for re-opening. "Grissom! Are you all set?!" 

"Give us five minutes to get our trucks out of here, Chief!" Normally Grissom would have liked to keep the scene closed, but since I-15 was the main artery between Vegas and California, it was an unavoidable necessity.

Because of the time pressure to open the road, Grissom had to ask all of the CSIs and associated personnel on the scene to work nonstop to secure all evidence and photographs needed from the interstate. The six cars involved in the accident, as well as the bus wreckage, had been successfully removed and were en route to the lab. "So we all know the plan, right?"

"Can we talk about this for a second?" Standing in the middle of the team, Catherine announced, "I really think Nicky should head back with you and me, Gil."

"Hey!" Nick huffed from ten feet away. "Couldya stop talkin' about me like I'm not here. Griss asked me what I wanted to do and I said I wanted to stay here. I have a frickin' cold, I'm not dyin'."

After checking to make sure there weren't any cops nearby, she quietly explained, "This isn't about your cold, I'm concerned because..."

"Why are you still…" Even after a deep breath, Nick heatedly replied, "A fourteen year old boy **died** in my arms this morning." He pointed to Sara. "The same thing happened to you last week with that dancer, so back me up here. Tell Catherine it's **normal** to get upset when you watch someone's lights go out as you hold them. And since it's **normal**, and since it isn't the first time I've shed tears over a dead kid's body on the job, I don't see why you suddenly think I'm an incapable nutcase who should be removed from the field." Pressing his palm to his chest, he admitted, "I grew up with six overly emotional women, and I blame them for teachin' me to cry when I'm upset, but there's nothin' I can do about it. I wear my heart on my sleeve, and y'all should know that by now. Okay? There's nothin' wrong with me, so please, for the last time…get off my back!"

"Hey!" Warrick scolded his long-time friend, "Don't yell at her, man, she's just worried about you. We all are. You didn't just shed a few tears, you completely lost it. You were out of your head. Aside from that, it's obvious that you're burnin' up from a fever and you're tired. Sorry, I agree with Cath, you should go. And this is** twice** you've been emotionally unstable in the field around me, first punchin' that punk and now this. That's a problem."

"I disagree," Sara chimed in. "If that punk had tweaked me when I was scraping up a piece of Greg's scalp, I would have kicked him in the nuts, and I know exactly how Nick felt when that boy took his last breath, I understand why he flipped out, but just like I did last week, after purging the emotions, he pulled it together." Nodding at her friend under fire, she confirmed, "I have no problem with CSI Stokes being in charge of this field operation after Grissom leaves."

Staring at Nick, Catherine snarked, "Hey, be happy we're talking about you in front of you, because take my word for it…being on the receiving end of a private mutiny is** far** more humiliating."

Sara didn't miss a beat, "But not quite as bad as being suspended by Ecklie because one of your team mates got her feelings hurt hearing the truth."

"Stop!" Greg yelled, surprising himself. "Everybody, just stop! We haven't had a break for ten hours, and I know we're exhausted and punchy, but…we're like standing in a graveyard for fourteen dead kids arguing about stupid stuff. It's…it's disrespectful. There's a time and a place and this is neither." When he saw everyone staring at him, he anxiously cleared his throat. "And that's all I have to say about that…yeah."

Grissom patted the youngest and currently wisest team member's shoulder. "I think we'll leave it at that. Catherine and Warrick, we need to get going before the road opens. Sara and Nick...Greg is in charge of this field operation, he'll tell you what to do next. I'll be in touch."

"W…what?!" Greg chased after the boss. "In charge? **Me?!** How high is **your** fever, Griss? I've never been in charge of a scene ever."

"There's a first time for everything, Greg. So stop the quivering virgin act and get on with it."

"It's not an act!"

Grissom dangled his keys. "I'm out of here, the road is opening."

"Griss!" Greg stood at the bottom of the hillside, watching his mentor pull himself up with the rope placed there. "Seriously! Why me?"

"Why did Willy Wonka choose an honest child to run his chocolate factory?" Once at the top, Grissom waved to the terrified CSI in charge and quoted from the beloved book his mother had given to him on his 9th birthday, "I'm an old man. I can't go on forever. So who is going to run the factory when I get too old to do it myself? Someone has to keep it going, if only for the sake of the Oompa Loompas."

"**What are you smoking?!" **Greg screamed while holding his head.

"Charlie Bucket…this is a **golden** opportunity to impress me."

"Oh."

As Grissom walked away he gave one more push, "Remember…even though Charlie was the last kid picked and the unlikely star of the five, **he** ended up with the keys to the factory when Wonka retired."

"Right." The reluctant leader took a cleansing breath. "Thank you!"

* * *


	7. Chapter 7: Fever All Through the Night 2

**Where You Are**

**Written By:** **Ms Maggs ****/ Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 7: Fever All Through the Night – Part 2**

"I think Dad's pissed at his kids," Nick told Sara as they watched Greg return from his chat with Grissom. "Seriously, that's just how my father acted when all of us kids bickered."

Sara pushed beyond the squicky father-figure imagery and replied as though she weren't shacking up with 'Daddy', "Yeah, except for the baby of the family. He's the golden child."

"Can you believe he put me in charge?" Greg asked his teammates.

"No," they replied through smiles.

"Clearly the fever has affected Griss's judgment." Nick dropped a hand on his buddy's shoulder, giving it a supportive squeeze. "But what the boss says goes, so we'll make the best of it, and don't worry…if you start screwin' up bad, we'll tell ya." He winked. "Maybe."

"Thanks."

Nick pointed to the techs. "You've got an impatient bunch of CSI wannabes standin' over there dyin' for more field experience on their records. They're all wonderin' what to make of Grissom leavin' the scene. You better round 'em up and give them somethin' to do, or they'll start guessin' what they should do next, and you don't want that, trust me."

"Right. Thanks." Greg took off for the group that had eagerly arrived in the field when the call for all Crims with field experience was sent earlier. "Officers!" He waved for the three cops sipping coffee at the relief station to join them for an impromptu meeting. "If you could come over here too, thanks."

"This should be good," Sara whispered, feeling nervous about her pseudo brother's first foray into field leadership.

"Whatever happens, just let him work through it," Nick advised, "the last thing he needs with all that's happened lately is for one of us to rescue him. It's better for him to look clueless in front of everyone than weak."

Sara flirtatiously joked, "You're cute when you're protective, Stokes."

"I get it, Sidle." He returned the teased, "Now that Griss is shackin' up with someone, you're gonna flirt with me full-time. Okay, okay, since Catherine and Sofia have backed off, I can work you in."

"Pfft. Like you could handle a real woman."

"On second thought, I'm too young for you. You like 'em fluffy, gray, and in need of reading glasses."

_Mmm, yes I do._ "Stop talking, Stokes." She pointed to their teammate gathering the group. "I want to hear Greg's cherry pop."

"Okay, um..." When Greg's voice cracked, the reluctant leader cleared his throat. "Everyone! If I could have your attention! Thanks." With thirteen people staring him down, he anxiously forged on. "Grissom returned to the lab to take the lead there and has left me in charge of this scene."

Snickers and whispers immediately followed the daft statement.

"Why isn't Stokes in charge?" Carl Sanchez, a Trace Tech jonesing for a field position inquired. "He has seniority, doesn't he?"

"He's um..." Greg searched for a good answer, and when one didn't materialize, he said, "Grissom picked me, and no one argues with Grissom or his decisions, not me, not Stokes, not you. Now that we have that cleared up, here's what we're going to do…"

Standing next to Sara, Nick smacked his lips to make a pop.

"And it was relatively painless," she whispered in reply.

With his confidence building, Greg directed, "While Nick, Sara and I continue roping off grid sections, I want you to divide into teams of two and process the sections we've already established sweeping from the right to the left. Upon completion of a section, I want you to place all your properly photographed, bagged, and labeled evidence into a truck before moving on to another next section. While I know this sounds like grunt work, it's not. We never know what will help us solve a case. So take the assignment seriously, every piece of debris matters. With the drivers of three vehicles deceased, and the other two in critical condition, we have no witnesses to help us out. The evidence will tell the story, and I thank you in advance for your hard work. Any questions?" He glanced behind him and when he saw Nick and Sara holding their thumbs up, he relaxed.

"I have a question." Crumbling an empty Styrofoam coffee cup, Officer Damon Tufts grumbled, "Did you just want a bigger audience for your pep rally or what? Why did you call us off our break?"

"Sorry, I was just getting to that." Greg pointed to the top of the hill. "With the road open, people are slowing down and I noticed a few are parking and getting out of their cars. Could you extend the tape and put some extra guys up there. We're done with the road, but anything beyond the safety rail is still part of an active crime scene. Thanks."

"Yeah, we'll get right on that, boss man." Walking away with his partner, Officer Jamar Watson muttered, "Cracka has a rep for runnin' a brother down with his truck when he doesn't get his way, so we better..."

"Hey!" Nick snarled at the cops. "I heard that."

"Heard what, Stokes?"

Nick blasted the tenured officer, "Doesn't **get his way**? You knowthat wasn't the score. He was stopping a murder."

Sara grabbed her friend's arm. "I thought we weren't going to rescue Greg?"

"Yeah, I can handle this." Still smarting from the comment, Greg warily approached the officer. "Is there a problem? If you have a problem with me or my request, I'd prefer you tell me to my face, so we can resolve it. Do you…have a problem with me?"

"Do I have a problem with you?" Deciding the confrontation wasn't worth it, he backed off. "Nah, it was just a bad joke that I didn't intend for you to hear. Okay?" When the CSI nodded, Watson walked away. "If you need anything else, you just let us know, boss man."

When Greg saw the Techs gaping he shooed them off. "If you guys want field credit, you better get to work."

As the Techs scurried, Sara dropped her arm onto Greg's shoulders. "Nice job. Very authoritative."

"Really?" Greg glanced around to see if the cops gone. "I was too busy trying not to soil my underwear to notice. I can't believe Watson said that."

"I can," Nick slapped his buddy on the back. "That guy's an ass, always has been. It's not a racial thing either, Watson and Rick came to blows a few months back, when the idiot talked smack about Yoko. You did good, Greggo. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks." Greg gushed from the validation. "That means a lot."

"Frog and Toad." A grin exploded on Sara's face.

"Frog and T..." Nick fell into a coughing fit before finishing his sentence.

"That's who you two remind me of." She explained, "Frog and Toad Are Friends, it's a children's book. It was one of my favorites as a kid." Her first foster mother, Mrs. Sweeney, had a copy and would read it at bedtime using cute voices for the characters.

"What's with people comparing me to children's book characters today?" Greg remarked while handing Nick a cough drop. "Grissom called me Charlie Bucket."

"Yeah, but who listens to Grissom?" Sara smiled at the inside joke. "Trust me, Frog and Toad fits you two perfectly." She handed over a coil of rope. "Let's go."

* * *

"I think Dad's pissed at his kids," Catherine whispered to Warrick when they received the cold shoulder from Grissom upon returning to the lab. 

"I don't blame him. We sounded like a bunch of five year olds arguing on the playground."

"Except for Charlie Bucket." Catherine rolled her eyes. "I love Greg, everyone loves Greg, but come on…the idea of him being Grissom's replacement one day is laughable."

"Griss loves throwin' out that retirement BS. We all know he'll be here until the day he dies." Warrick led the way into the locker room. "He uses it for motivation. He pulled the same thing on me, remember? He was breezing out of the office with a jar of roaches to go to some conference and decided to put me in charge even though Nick had seniority and Sara was dyin' to boss people around. I didn't want to run the show. I told him I didn't, but he didn't care. I ended up having to deal with Ellie Brass. That was a nightmare."

"Remember in school, how teachers loved to call on the students not raising their hands?"

"Exactly." Warrick flipped open his locker. "Hey, I'm gonna grab a shower before I start processing the bus."

Catherine pulled a towel from her locker and joked, "I'll scrub your back if you scrub mine."

* * *

"Watch it!" Sara pointed to the darkness beyond the plateau. "Greg, you almost went over the edge when you were walking backwards." 

"Whoa." He hadn't noticed how close he was. "Thanks for the heads up."

"You can't fall into that ravine, because Nick's too sick to play hero and I'm not in the mood. Where is Nick anyway?"

"As his field boss, I ordered him to take a power nap in the Denali. He was burning up." Greg smiled, "Don't tell Warrick and Catherine though. That was the only way he'd agreed to get some rest, if I promised not to tell."

"What is going on with him and Catherine?"

"I have no idea." But the not knowing was driving him crazy.

"You're a good nurturer." Sara slammed another pole into the ground and tied off the rope. "Temperature checks, tissues, a cough drop from your pocket…getting the baby to nap. You're a natural."

"Really?" He shrugged. "I don't even know I'm doing it. All those years of hardcore smothering rubbed off on me I guess."

"Did you mean mothering? You said smothering."

"No, smothering is exactly what I meant. I…" Greg whipped around. "Did you hear that?"

"What?"

"It sounded like an animal." He walked to the edge with his flashlight

"There are all kind of animals out here, including mountain lions." Sara pulled her gun. "Just in case."

"I really hope it doesn't come to that," he droned, "Then I'll have animal rights activist screaming at me and taking me to court."

"I promise to take the heat." They were five hundred yards away from the nearest person. "Careful."

"Shhh. I heard it again." Greg crouched at the edge and moved the flashlight's beam into the ravine. "Sara!" He jumped to his feet.

"What?!" She readied her pistol.

"There's something reflecting in the beam." He rushed to wheel one of the portable lights to the edge. "And the noise…it sounds like crying."

"Hold up! You're stuck." Sara hurried to untangle the cord coming from the generator. "Okay, now you've got some slack."

When he aimed the spotlight over the edge, he saw it. "Sara! There's a car down there. It's covered with by brush, but…"

"What?" She ran to the edge. "Oh my God. It fell though the trees."

"Shh!"

"I heard it that time. There's somebody down there." She dropped to her knees. "If you can hear us and can speak, say yes!"

They both heard the word cried out loud and clear along with the words 'help', 'bleeding', and 'hurry'."

"We never looked down here," Greg raced to tie off a length of rope to one of the generators. "That's why we didn't see it before. No one said there was another car unaccounted for in the caravan."

"Hang on!" Sara shouted in return. "Tell me your name and age!"

"J…Jenni…fourteen."

"She must have been unconscious until now," Sara turned to see Greg looping rope around his waist. "We should wait. Let me radio."

"It's not that far." He hurried to the edge.

"Really, let me get…"

"Radio for an evac chopper, grab a first aid kit and get some guys down here." When he saw the concern on his friend's face he assured, "Don't worry, I had to learn how to repel for a scout badge, I'll be fine." When she still look unconvinced, he said, "Sara…she's fourteen and terrified. Would you want to be down there alone in the dark a second longer than you have to be? If Nick were here, raging fever or not, he'd be down there already, right? I can do it. Have some faith."

"Go for it." Sara pulled her radio. "But be careful!" she shouted over the edge. "I don't want to have to deal with your mother if you get hurt again!"

* * *

"Grissom," Gil answered his cell while slowly walking around the mangled bus positioned in the garage. "They dispatched an EVAC chopper to the scene?!" He stopped. "Did someone get hurt?" His pulse notched. "Who?" When he heard it was an additional victim from the accident and not Sara, he began breathing again. "Thank you for the update. I'll call my guys and get the rest of the details." 

After the call ended, he took a steadying breath and realized he was a little deeper in love than he thought. What if she had been hurt or killed just now….before he ever had the chance to tell her. _I have to tell her._ He shook his head in a show of conviction. _I will tell her. _

_Soon._ He punched in Sara's speed dial code. _But not yet. _

* * *

"Jenni…" Greg shined his flashlight into the car and gasped when he saw an obviously dead middle-aged woman in the driver's seat. "Jenni!" 

"Here."

Determining the pained voice was coming from outside the vehicle, Greg ran the flashlight's beam through the rugged landscape. "There you are." The terrified girl was curled in a ball between some desert brush. "Jenni, I'm Greg, I'm with the LVPD Crime Lab." He rushed to hold her hand. "We're going to have to wait until the EMTs get here with a backboard to move you, so just stay like you are, don't move." He quickly checked for bleeding. "You have some dried blood on your head, you definitely smacked it on something, that's probably why you were out for so long. Lots of cuts and scrapes, but I don't see any active bleeding, that's good. Where does it hurt?"

"Head…arms and hands…I…I can't feel my legs." A fresh tear trail cut through the dirt on her cheeks. "I'm paralyzed."

"Try not worry. Injuries tend to seem much worse than they are when they first happen. I was seriously hurt about six months ago, much worse than you from the looks of things. I couldn't see and I couldn't move, I thought for sure I was going to be in a wheelchair for the rest of my life, but once the doctors put me back together, I was fine. Between the shock, broken bones, and swelling, your body gets really stiff, that's why it can seem like paralysis. So stay positive, okay?" He stood to push back the bushes around her.

"Don't go," the girl whimpered, while weakly grasping the man's hand.

"Are you kidding? After I came all the way down here to see you, you think I'd leave? No way." He brushed her bloody, matted blonde hair. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise. I was just moving that jagged bush off you." He placed the flashlight on the ground so it would illuminate his face.

"I'm thirsty," she smacked her parched lips.

"I'm sure you are, you've been down here for about twelve hours." He tenderly stroked her hair. "I'm really sorry, but I can't give anything to drink in case you have internal injuries. But hey…" He reached into his coverall pocket. "I have chap stick, that'll help a little. It's never been used, so don't worry about germs." He popped off the top. "I don't want you to move, so may I?"

"Y...yes."

"I'm not really good at good at doing someone else's makeup," he joked, hoping it would help her relax, "so this will probably feel a little messy." When the girl smiled for a split second, he burst into a grin. "I see your t-shirt says Greenfield Science Club."

"I'm President."

"You should know, you're looking at a big time Chem Nerd right here. Bachelors and Masters, even thinking about going for my Ph.D. What's your favorite science?"

"Ph…physics," she answered through quivering lips.

"You're freezing. Of course you are, you're in shorts and a t-shirt and I'm bundled up." He yanked off his jacket. "Sorry, I should have done this first." He placed the jacket over her, gently tucking it around her. "Like I said, I'm a Chem Nerd, so I've spent most of my free time in labs, not on dates. Consequently I'm not very smooth with the ladies. Now, if my buddy Nick had come down here, he would have had his jacket around you before he introduced himself. I've seen the 'gentleman gives his coat to the shivering girl' move in movies a billion times too, duh, I can't believe I did that."

The warmth of the jacket soothing her, she relaxed slightly. "It's okay…you're really nice. Thank you for not talking to me like a…kid."

"You're welcome." Next he yanked off his sweater, revealing his vintage Smiths's 'The Queen is Dead' tee. "Let me put this over your feet, it'll warm them up." As he draped the sweater he remarked, "So, Physics, huh? In Junior High? That's a little ahead of the curve, you must be really smart."

"Top student," she proudly whispered.

"Cool! I'm honored to be helping out a fellow brainiac." He continued to stroke her hair and squeeze her hand. "My friend Sara, you'll meet her real soon, she has her degrees in Physics. She went to Berkeley, which **she** believes makes her my intellectual superior." He rolled his eyes. "I'm a Stanford man myself."

"You look…really familiar. Are you on TV?"

"Yeah, a lot of people ask me that lately," he sighed, "Do you watch the local news? I'm sure you must if you're a top student. I've been on the news a bunch of times regarding the Demetrius James…"

"Yes," she quietly replied, "that's it. Honors Social Studies…we debated…the payout and your actions."

"Seriously?" Greg couldn't believe it. "I'm a classroom current event and debate topic?" It never dawned on him that he would be, but now that he thought about it, in high school, his class had done the same thing after the Rodney King beating. "How did I fair?" he asked with trepidation. "What was the verdict?"

"Not guilty, no money."

Smiling, he said, "When you get back to school, tell your classmates thank you for me." Suddenly he remembered that fourteen of the girl's Science Club friends were dead and others were in the hospital injured and even fighting for their lives. "Do you remember how you got here, Jenni? How you got hurt?"

"No."

"That happens too, the brain doesn't want us to remember the trauma, so it blocks it."

"I…I was late for school…for the bus. My mom…had to drive me. We…" Her vocal cords desperate for liquid, she rasped, "She was honking at the bus. I…I can't remember after that."

Greg reflexively glanced at the crushed car behind him, realizing the teen's mother was dead. "Let's not worry about that right now. Let's talk science instead." Choking up on the girl's behalf he squeezed her hand with both of his. "It's not often I find a girl who speaks geek."

"Hey! Greggo!" Nick shouted from above. "Sara filled me in, are you okay?! I'll grab some rope and get down there."

"I've got it under control until the EMTs come." Greg joked with the girl, "See, I told you he's a ladies man. He's afraid I'm going to be the hero and get the girl for a change, so he's trying to barge in. We don't need him though, right? We're doing okay."

"Uh huh." In spite of the jacket's warmth, the girl shivered. "Cold."

Turning his eyes upward again, Greg yelled, "We could use some emergency blankets!"

"I'm on it!" Nick replied. "The chopper is about five minutes out. I'll be right back!"

"My mom," Jenni weakly asked as exhaustion overcame her once more, "is she hurt too?"

"I don't know," Greg lied, feeling it was the right thing to do to keep the girl calm and still. "All I know is that I showed up to the process the scene and I found you."

Growing weary, Jenni shut her eyes and spoke in a dreamy whisper, "I hope my friends had fun on the field trip."

"Eyes open, Jenni!" he panicked. "You have to stay awake."

"Shh."

"Sorry, you're not allowed to sleep when you have a head injury. That's what they told me when I was on the pavement after the beating. Gotta stay awake." He vigorously rubbed her hand, hoping it would keep her roused. "Let's see how well you know your periodic table. Give me copper."

"Copper," she mumbled, "CU."

"Good. What about sodium?"

"N…" she drifted.

"Sodium, Jenni!" He got lower, to be eye to eye. "Look at me, right here. Tell me sodium."

"NA."

"Good. Real good." _Sara and Nick already had people die on them this week, you are __**not **__going to die on me. _"Hang with me, Jenni. Tell me gold."

* * *

"Hey you!" Seeing Warrick appear on the opposite side of the crumpled bus, Catherine decided to take her mind off the blood soaked interior by chatting, "I'm going to buy a Wonka bar and put a gold piece of foil in it before giving it to Greg. I'll write congratulations on surviving your first field leadership experience, Charlie Bucket." 

Warrick winced at the sight of a pink backpack amidst the gore. "Let's wait and see if Sanders survives the challenge."

"How could he fail with Nick attached to his hip?" Inspecting what was left of the driver's area, she asked, "Were you at all surprised at how happy Greg was when he opened that blender this morning?"

Sensing that the mother of a teenager was trying not to dwell on the fact that her daughter rides a school bus and could have died that day, he indulged her need for mindless banter. "You heard him. He likes smoothies."

"I was referring to the way he was gushing like an excited bride and not minding the razzing about being Nick's 'girl'."

"Cath, **please** promise me you're not going to corner Nick and tell him not to worry, that you'll still love him if he's gay and banging Greg." Warrick shook his head while readying his camera. "Because **that **will be the straw that breaks his back, I assure you. And I won't defend you if you do, because it's sick and rude."

"I won't, I promise." She continued snapping photos and blocking the knowledge that she was looking at the bus driver's brain spatter. "But if Greg shows up for work proudly sporting one of Nick's priceless A&M sweatshirts, that he wouldn't let me wear when I was freezing my ass off in Blue Diamond one night," she chuckled, "all bets are off."

"It'll be a cold day in hell before he'd let that happen, so I'm not worried." He crouched down to inspect a blood covered baseball, considering it an odd find on a bus full of science nerds on a field trip to study G-forces by riding the Desperado roller coaster.

"Aww, you know you love my sense of humor."

Bagging the baseball that could have distracted the driver if had been thrown up front, Warrick said, "Trust me, I've been out carousing with Nicky enough to know he's a ladies man and not the least bit interested in Greg's ass."

"No more than Grissom's interested in Sara's ass anyway."

* * *

"Sara…" In the privacy of his office, Gil spoke freely, or at least as much as his prior relationship baggage would allow. "I got a call about an evac chopper being dispatched to your scene and I…I…" 

"You what?"

Her loving lilt put an unexpected smile on Gil's face. "I grew concerned, very concerned. I wanted to call to say…" He wanted to say the three little words, but couldn't get beyond the fear associated with the admission. "I wanted to say it's a relief to hear your voice, to know you're well. I can't wait to hold you later. That's all." He hoped it was enough.

"I think I know what you're saying," she sweetly replied. "I feel the same way too. You sound awful, are you feeling any better? How's your fever? Nick's burning up."

Ignoring the rapid-fire questions, he stammered, "Sara, I…I…"

"Sorry, Greg is calling me and you know I have a hard time saying 'no' to the boss."

After the click, Gil's lips fanned into a glorious smile. "I called to say I love you, Sara." He slipped the phone into his pocket. _That was much easier than I imagined._

* * *

Over the roar of the evac chopper's blades, Greg directed Sara, "They have room for one of us, and I want you to go with her. So far, she's the only victim conscious enough to give us a clue. She remembers her mother speeding to catch the bus, that's an excellent start." 

"You bonded with her, not me," Sara protested, dreading the idea of holding a dying girl's hand again. "You need to go."

"No," Greg stuck to his plan. "I'm in charge of the scene. I told her all about you. She loves physics, start there and build her trust, she's really sweet."

"I don't want to." Sara let her vulnerability show.

"She's not gonna die."

"And you know that **how **exactly?" If Grissom were here, she would be able to get out of it.

"Because there's been enough death today. Come on, they're just about ready to go." Greg stepped back so Sara would have a clear path to the chopper. "Grandpa Olaf always said…if you fall off a yak, you have to get right back on and ride."

"A yak?"

"It might have been something else, but I'm not completely fluent in Norwegian." His decision made, the boss man walked off. "Give her a hug for me!"

"I'm not a hugger!" she yelled after him. "Everyone knows that! You're the nurturer!"

"Yeah, but I'm already looking after Toad, remember?!"

Her anxiety growing with every step toward the chopper, Sara hoped for a happier ending this time.

* * *

"You made Sara do **what**, Greg?!" Grissom barked into his cell phone. Stepping back from the autopsy table, he blasted his ex-protégé. "She's still disturbed from that dancer dying in her arms, and you set her up for a reprise!" 

"No, I set her up for a victory, Griss."

"You have no idea what the extent of that girl's injuries are. She could be bleeding internally and die on the evac ride."

"You sent me into the field solo on my first day back after the beating, I was emulating your supervisory style. I'm a sponge remember? Sorry, but I really thought it was the Grissom thing to do."

Dropping his head in his shaky hand, Gil wished he could say 'There's a lot you don't know about Sara Sidle, Greg. She's already watched one too many people die before her eyes', but he couldn't. "Your logic is perfect, let's hope your psychic ability regarding the little girl's outcome is just as sound. If not…I have to go." He snapped the phone shut. "Doc, I need to run out to University Medical Center." If the girl died en route, Sara would be a wreck.

"Duty calls, huh?"

"Something like that." Gil tossed his gloves while plotting the quickest route to the hospital.

"Look at you." Doc was taken aback by the normally stoic man's flustered appearance. "You're a wreck."

"I'll be in touch!" His heart racing, Gil hurried out of the morgue. _I am a wreck, an emotional one. Dammit! This is what I get for letting her move in with me._

* * *

"I didn't do this five years ago when you were freezing your ass off, because you were a lowly plebe and unworthy, but a lot has changed, so here." Nick tossed a his heavy A&M sweatshirt at Greg. "It was in the back of my truck. Sorry, it's not washed. Probably smells like me after working ten cases, but oh well…beggars can't be choosers, and you should feel honored, because I never dole out my Aggiewear." 

Chilled to the bone, Greg couldn't pull the garment on fast enough. "I don't have a problem with the smell." Instantly warmed by the feel of the soft cotton against his goose-pimpled flesh, he breathed easy. "It's perfect." He gave a quick nod. "Thanks."

The sight of his housemate in his prized alum sweatshirt made Nick dizzier than his flu-induced fever.

When Greg noticed the funny look he was getting, he glanced down at his appearance asking, "What?"

"Nothin'." Nick shook off the awkwardness. "This just feels a little weird…sacrilegious even." He pointed to the shirt. "A Stanford boy like you in my maroon, but…as long as none of my old school friends find out, I won't be killed, I'll just burn in hell for lettin' you wear it."

"Oh! I get it." After the drama of Jenni's rescue, Greg needed a laugh. "In Aggieland terms, this would mean we're hooked up, hence the sacrilege and the Bible Belt mandated trip to the eternal hellfire."

"I wasn't thinkin' of it that way, but now that you mention it, you better give it back and freeze."

"Fat chance!" Greg hurried away laughing. "I finally have something that's worth as much to you as my Plasma TV! I'm keeping it as collateral!"

"What?!" With his hands firmly planted on his hips, Nick stood in the middle of the desert shaking his head. _Tonight he steals my favorite sweatshirt, what's it gonna be tomorrow? Dammit! This is what I get for letting him move in with me._

* * *

**ANs: **

If you think about Warrick's statement though "it'll be a cold day in hell" before Nick lets Greg wear his Aggie shirt…it really was a cold day in hell…it was freezing and the accident site was horrific. LOL yeah let's just hope Greg doesn't wear it to work because I'm sure Cath wouldn't see it that way.

The inspiration for making Greg a current event was my daughter (6th grade Honors class) coming home from school and saying they spent the afternoon discussing the guy who did the mass shooting in Virginia and what could have been done to prevent the situation from happening, should his family be responsible because they knew he was sick, etc. It made me think that Social Studies classes in Vegas would definitely be discussing Greg.

**Thanks, **

**Maggs **


	8. Chapter 8: Mommy Dearest

**Where You Are  
****Written By:** **Ms Maggs ****/ Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 8: Mommy Dearest **

"How is she?" Gil warily asked as he reached the bustling ER trauma unit just before midnight. "Sara?" With her back to him, it was impossible to gauge her mood. "Honey…" He brushed her hand with his on the sly.

A touch to her hand made her jump.

"I didn't mean to startle you." Even though it was unintentional, he felt terrible. "I said your name, but you were deep in thought and didn't hear me." His heart sank when he saw that she was crying.

"You're here." Her voice trembled. _I'm so glad you're here._ She flicked her tears. "How did you know where…"

"I got a call." His anger over Greg's decision to send Sara on the chopper returned with a vengeance. "I'm so sorry, Honey."

After a sharp inhale, she shared, "Jenni's out of the woods."

It wasn't the news he expected. "Your tears, they're out of relief?"

"And tension." She nodded as her eyes flooded once more. "Jenni flatlined right before we landed. She's so sweet, and smart, smarter than I was at her age." With a shaky hand, she wiped her damp face. "One minute we were talking and then all of a sudden, she…"

"Oh, Sara…" Grissom brought a palm to his gaping mouth and vowed to make Greg work every nasty assignment that came across his desk for the next ten years; every vomit pool, liquefied corpse, and dumpster dive.

"When she coded..." The details were delivered in between choppy breaths, "This doctor um…he straddled her body to give her CPR as they rushed the gurney into the trauma unit. One of her broken bones nicked an artery when she was transported. She was bleeding out, but thankfully they were able to turn it around pretty quickly. She has multiple fractures…a leg, a couple of ribs, a hip, an arm, a wrist. The CT of her head was fine though and no other internal problems. It's pretty amazing, considering she was launched from her mother's car as it plummeted into a ravine. Jenni's very brave, and incredibly smart," Sara sniffled, "she knows a lot more than I did in eighth grade. She's very sweet, and she has a huge crush on Greg."

"But I thought you said she was smart?" Smiling, Grissom handed her the clump of tissues he had stuffed in his pocket. "Here."

"Last week you magically appeared with a can of Sprite after I vomited, this week you show up with a pile of tissues as I'm crying." She accepted the Kleenex. "You're a very intuitive stalker."

"I have to confess, the tissues were for me, because I've been blowing my nose all night." His fever was steadily notching upward as well. "The Sprite though…I got that especially for you when I looked through the window and saw you bent over in the backyard that night." As Sara wiped her nose, Gil joked, "If you want me to send Sanders back to DNA, just say the word."

"No." Her quivering lips edged into a smile. "I'm glad Frog pushed me back on the yak."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't send him back to DNA. Actually, when you see Greg, all I want you to tell him is…" Sara smiled, "nice work."

* * *

"How's Jenni?" Nick asked as soon as his housemate snapped his cell phone shut. "Is she…?" Leaning against the kitchen counter in his townhouse, he doubled over coughing for what seemed like the hundredth time in an hour. 

"Sara said they just upgraded her to stable condition," Greg hurried to the fridge to fill a glass of water from the dispenser. "They're still keeping up the ruse about her mother being in surgery though, and they haven't told her it wasn't a single car accident." He held out the filled glass and when Nick grabbed it he said, "Dude, your fever was a 102 when that EMT checked it **last night **and then you worked like a dog for another twelve hours. Let me to take you to that Urgent Care place in the..."

"Are you kiddin' me?" Nick rasped while lifting the glass of ice water to his burning forehead. "Goin' to one of those places is how I got sick in the first place. Tylenol and sleep is all I need. What time is it anyway? It feels like we've been gone for days."

"We left on Friday morning and it's now…" Unsure of the answer, Greg checked his watch, "Whoa. It's two-thirty pm, Saturday." When he looked up and saw Nick clutching his head, he huffed, "The EMT said your throat was trashed. You probably have strep and need…"

"Wouldya drop it already? Just point me in the direction of my bedroom and give me a shove."

Greg started down the hall. "Follow me, Cletus." When he reached the door across from his room, he gave the requested shove. "Straight ahead."

Nick zombie-walked to his king-size bed and collapsed into the luxurious comforter his mother had purchased for him after the abduction, hoping its soothing qualities would help him sleep better. "Home sweet home." Realizing he still had his boots on, he summoned all his strength to sit up. "Hey, G...when I was buried alive, I had nightmares about Doc havin' a field day with my body." He struggled to untie the double knotted right boot. "So, promise me you'll make sure SuperDave does the autopsy if I don't wake up."

"Sorry, Grissom has dibs on all of our bodies. It's part of his contract." Greg huffed over to the bed and knelt down to untie his housemate's boots. "You know those jarred brains he has in his office?"

"Make sure I get a prime spot."

"Don't you want to shower before passing out?" Greg asked while wincing from the smell of Nick's sweat soaked socks.

"Too tired." Now that his boots were off, Nick crawled under the covers. "Ugh, I forgot the Tylenol, they're in my jacket. Couldya…"

"I'll grab the bottle and get you a glass of OJ."

"Thanks." Nick called out when his buddy reached the door. "G…"

"Yeah?"

"About last night…when we were..."

Greg waited with baited breath.

After a yawn, Nick finished his thought, "When we were in the field, your leadership skills, especially how you handled the Jenni situation..."

"Oh. Yeah." Greg shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Look, I know you would have handled things differently, but I...no, you're right, I should have done things differently. Like when I told the Techs to…"

"Shut up."

"Shutting."

"I just wanted to say…" Nick's eyes drifted shut. "Nice work."

* * *

Sara breezed into Jenni's hospital room at three o'clock as promised. Waving her first Physics text, she announced, "Here's that book I promised you." She set it on the girl's tray table. "Do you think that will keep you busy for a while?" 

The busted and bruised teen pushed out a smile. "You remembered."

"Of course I did." Noting the teddy bear tucked under the girl's broken arm and a large gift basket full of treats, Sara said, "Looks like you got some other presents while I was gone."

"Greg stopped by with all of this." Jenni's eyes lit. "The nurse took out the stuffed animal for me. Isn't it cute?" She showed off the studious brown curly bear sporting glasses and a lab coat with mini pens in its pocket. "It's a Science Nerd."

"Very cute." Sara checked out the card sitting in the basket. _To the bravest girl I know. I got a food basket because I know first hand that hospital food sucks. Stay away from the cream soups, unless you like paste, then order seconds. Your Friendly Neighborhood Chem Nerd, Greg Sanders. _"He's a pretty funny guy, huh?"

"Yeah," Jenni gushed. "And unlike most boys, he likes geeky girls."

"What's not to like about geeky girls?" Sara deadpanned. "Any girl can paint her nails, but geeky girls can formulate their own polish."

"That's funny." Although it hurt to laugh, Jenni couldn't resist chuckling.

Noticing the straight A student looked much more relaxed, Sara asked, "Did you let them adjust your pain meds?"

"Uh huh. Much better."

"Good." Sara smiled at the girl who had voiced concern about using drugs because her deceased father was an addict. "I know it's kind of funny to have people ordering you to get high after years of anti-drug brainwashing, and while there is some truth to genetic predisposition for addiction, it won't happen if you don't let it. I'm proof of that."

"Huh?"

Pulling up a chair, Sara quietly shared, "I'm not an open book. I could literally count on one hand the number of times I told my friends something private from my childhood, so this is a big deal for me to say, and it's just between you and me. Greg's my friend, but I've never told him this."

"Okay." Jenni clutched the bear. "I promise."

"I'm the product of two raging alcoholics." Sara slouched in the chair. "I did well in school, because I spent my childhood hiding in my bedroom getting lost in books. Novels were my escape from reality. Textbooks were my way to a better life." After a steadying breath, she continued, "My parents fought all the time and my father was violent. One night, my mother had enough and she fought back…with a knife." She was surprised that the story was much easier to tell now that she had cried about it on Grissom's shoulder a few times. "My father died, my mother was committed, and I was placed into foster care. It wasn't great, but it wasn't always bad._ Just ninety percent of the time._ When I was sixteen, I requested emancipation. _Because the third and final home I was placed in wasn't safe._ I got a full ride to Harvard." _And I was happy there until an bastard named Jake ruined everything._ "I missed the West Coast thought, so I transferred to Berkeley." _And became a workaholic, which complimented my fear of men very nicely. "_Now…life is good." _Finally._ "I'm doing well." _Better anyway_. "A girl isn't automatically the sum of her parents, Jenni." _You're not going to feel that way for a while, but it's true._ You can't shoulder the burden of the bad choices your parents made." _But don't be surprised if kids you once called your friends suddenly won't talk to you. _

"Why um…" Tears formed in the savvy girl's eyes. "There's a reason you're telling me this. You…you're preparing me for something."

"You're almost fifteen, and a very smart girl. I'm not going to baby you. I know how that feels. It doesn't help, things are what they are and there aren't words to make it hurt less." Crying with the suspicious teen, Sara leaned in closer, ready to share the news that Social Services had agreed to let her deliver. "No matter how bad things get though, they always get better. Remember that, okay?"

"Okay," she squeaked.

"Your mom didn't survive the accident."

"I…I kind of figured. The nurse, she couldn't look at me."

"I'm so sorry." Sara pulled three tissues from the bedside box and placed them in the sobbing girl's hand.

"There's more, isn't there?"

Sara gave a somber nod. "Did you know your mother had a drinking problem?"

Holding the tissues to her eyes, Jenni answered, "Sometimes she would come home from dates…I would find her on the floor. She'd yell at me if I gave her a hard time about it. She said that all adults party, that it was normal and she deserved to date. I was scared, but…she told me it was normal. Not lately though, she's been better."

"It's okay." Sara cupped the devastated girl's hand. "The autopsy results showed that your mom had consumed a large quantity of alcohol. She was well over the legal limit and shouldn't have been behind the wheel that morning." The plan was to keep her in the dark about the bus until she was a little stronger.

"That's why we crashed?" A flash back to that morning suddenly appeared in Jenni's mind. "Mom was laughing and trying to catch the bus. Honking the horn and yelling 'don't worry, baby, I'll get you on that trip'. She didn't want me to miss the field trip because it was a reward for winning the state Science challenge. I…I didn't know she had been drinking though. She seemed fine."

"They learn to hide it well." When she saw the girl's eyes widen to saucers, Sara stood. "What's happening?" The Pulse-Ox monitor flashed to red. "Nurse!" She lunged for the call button.

"The bus." Speaking like a dazed child, Jenni whispered, "We were flying. The bus was flying too. The science is clear…what goes up, must come down." She looked to Sara for an answer. "They're all dead. Are they? Are they all dead?"

As the nurse rushed in, Sara managed to choke out, "Not all of them."

* * *

While unloading grocery bags full of chicken soup ingredients, Greg heard the front doorbell. "I hope that's a mis-delivered pizza," he muttered on his way out of the kitchen. It was nearly five o'clock and the last thing he had eaten was donuts for breakfast. "Hell…" 

Nothing could have prepared the exhausted CSI for the surprise before his eyes.

"Surprised to see me?" Standing on the doorstep holding two pieces of luggage, Jan Sanders scowled at her deceptive boy.

"Mom!"

"Of course you're surprised." She barged into the townhouse, her perfectly bobbed honey-blonde hair bouncing in time with her plucky stride. "Would the reason be that you moved and didn't tell me, so you didn't think I had your address?"

_This is not happening! _Greg was too stunned to speak.

Placing her two Louis Vuitton Keepalls on the floor, Jan snipped, "Imagine my surprise when I show up for one of my impromptu visits and found your apartment empty. With everything that's been going on lately, do you know how terrified I was?" Tears shot from her eyes. "People in this town want you **dead**, Gregory. Big scary black men want to run you over with their trucks."

"I'm sorry." He took her hand and gave it a loving squeeze. "Look at me, I'm fine. Please stop crying."

Pulling a Kleenex from her purse, the terrified mother sniffled, "Luckily the complex manager told me where you moved."

"She told you? That's like a huge violation of privacy. I can't believe she did that to me." He backpedaled, "Not that I was hiding from you."

Jan turned her eyes to the ceiling as she dabbed her tears. "Well, t_old me_ isn't exactly correct. When that snotty little witch stepped outside to yell at someone not picking up after their dog, I checked her past-tenant file and snagged your forwarding address form." She blew her nose. "You're not getting your cleaning deposit back by the way."

"Instead of committing property theft, you could have called me," he droned, finally over the shock enough to form words. "I wonder why I'm not getting my deposit back?"

"And you could have told me you moved! I call you **every day**, was it so difficult to find a way to work in 'By the way, I've moved'?"

"I'm really sorry, but I've been so busy that it…"

"Too busy to tell your mother you've…" Suddenly noticing the unfamiliar décor, Jan traded one inquisition for another. "Wait. These aren't your things. This isn't even your taste. It's horrid taste actually. Oh my, they're Sara's things, aren't they?! Yes, that makes sense, she's such a butchy girl." Her hands rushed to her head as her hopes for grandchildren soared. "I knew it! I told you in the hospital, didn't I?! I said 'Greggy, any girl who sheds tears while holding your hand is head over heels in love with you'! At least that horrific beating had some good come out of it. I told you she wouldn't be able to say no to you after that."

"Yes, you did." _But she said no, twice as a matter of fact. _

"Oh, Honey. I'm so happy for you. I know how long you've been chasing her." She threw her arms around his neck. "I'm thrilled. Thrilled!" She bit her tongue, so she wouldn't make a plea for grandchildren in 2008. "When the time comes, just say the word, and I'll book the club for a beautiful wedding."

"Mom…"

"It's March, so let's see, six months of cohabitation before you're engaged, that's September, another six or so after that…April! Is there anything more beautiful than a springtime wedding?"

"Time out." Greg gently clasped his giddy mother by the shoulders. "I'm not living with Sara."

"Then who are you living with?" Jan's gaze drifted to the A&M football team photo on the wall and the words Nick Stokes MVP. "Not a guy. Not again." She gulped. "This is all my fault, if you hadn't been forced to come home and take care of me for a semester, Lacey wouldn't have cheated on you. You two would be married with children by now."

"Ooh, lucky me," his voice hardened, "I'd be married to a woman who thinks it's okay to screw other guys the second her man leaves town. Yeah, every time I'd go to a Forensics conference, Lacey would be humping her way around town and none of our kids would have my DNA. Please don't feel guilty, Mom, she didn't cheat on me because I went home to take care of you for a semester, she cheated on me because she was a disloyal bitch."

"I'll never understand what happened," Jan sighed, "you bent over backwards to make that girl happy. You were a fantastic boyfriend, everyone said that, her parents adored you. I know you know why, but you won't tell me, which hurts, because we don't keep secrets from each other, Gregory."

"Because I was too nice, that's why!" At thirty-two he was finally able to tell his mother the embarrassing truth. "When we started getting serious Lacey told me she didn't believe in sex before marriage. I told her I was a virgin too and had no problem waiting a little longer because I loved her and we'd have the rest of our lives to get physical. Then I came home to be with you and one day Bobby called to say Lacey was sleeping with Brian Ruggiero. I jumped in my car and drove to Stanford to ask her in person, because I couldn't believe it was true. When I got there, she was in bed with the bastard and she said that if I** really** had loved her, I would have tried to sleep with her like Brian did!"

"What?" Jan cocked her head and pondered the information. "But she said she wanted to wait. How could she get mad at you for respecting her wish? That makes no sense."

"Tell me about it!" Greg shrieked as he dropped onto the couch.

"But, sweetie, you didn't have to switch teams just because **one girl** broke your heart. That's like hating pizza after eating one lackluster slice." Jan's breathing quickened. "But I guess between Lacey treating so unfairly, and your overbearing mother driving you insane, who can blame you for running to boys?"

"Mom…please." He looked her in the eyes. "I **swear** on Nana Olaf's grave, I've** never** had sex with a guy. I don't hate all women, just Lacey. I'm not living with Nick in a relationship; I'm just sharing the place with him. We're housemates."

"Housemates, as in 'share the rent', not a bed?"

"Yes," Greg chuckled at the phrasing. "You met him at the hospital, remember? Nick, the ladies man. My nurse gave him her phone number in front of you. Nick loves beer and babes, not boys. He needed some help making his mortgage, I needed to move to a different neighborhood; it's a win-win situation."

Moving her eyes from an A&M game ball display to her son's sweatshirt, Jan anxiously said, "Is that his sweatshirt you're wearing?"

_At least we had two seconds of relative calm._

"You're living with your jock buddy, a beer drinking ladies man, and you're wearing his sports apparel." Jan's eyes welled. "Why does that make me nervous, Gregory? Hmm? Why? Does he know you have that on?"

"Yes. Mom, you…"

"Don't cop that condescending tone with me!" Jan barked at her son who knew exactly why she was scared to death. "You're living with a redneck football player who carries a gun for a living. I've already lived through you getting beaten within an inch of your life twice in my lifetime, the third time will** not** be a charm for me, Greg, it will kill me! You'll be your sweet, cute, caring self around here and Nick will misunderstand your intentions just like…"

"Stop!" Greg grabbed her both of her hands. "If you would just listen to me, instead of spiraling into a frenzy, you'd know you have nothing to worry about. Can you do that?" When she nodded, he continued, "I absolutely understand where you're coming from, I do, but you're talking about something that happened ten years ago when I was a lot more naïve than I am today. I'm a grown man, I've known Nick for eight years, and I trust him with my life in the field every night. He's not Jeff, he's not going to come home drunk one day and beat the crap out of me over a shirt."

Locking eyes with her son, she pleaded, "Just play it safe this time. Don't do things that can be misunderstood. No laundry, no cute nicknames, and no cooking."

"Okay, now let's move on." He squeezed her tight. "I never got to finish my story, and it's really cool. I gave my jacket and sweater to a girl I found in a ravine last night, that's why I'm wearing Nick's sweatshirt. The girl's name is Jenni Collins, she's at University Medical Center. She's totally sweet. She called me her hero. Sara was there and saw it all." He gushed with pride, "She said I was great."

Glancing up at her boy, Jan wiped her tears. "Sara knows you saved a girl in a ravine and she **still **won't go out with you? I'm sorry, Sweetie, but between her not saying 'yes' to a wonderful catch like you, and those manly clothes she wears, I really think she's a lesbian. You're thirty-two, I want grandchildren, we can't afford to waste any more time chasing a lesbian."

"**We**, huh?" It was hard to hate her when she loved him so much. "Mom…"

"How old is the girl who thinks you're a hero?"

"Just shy of fifteen," he laughed, happy the tension was behind them. "Sorry."

"The age of consent in Nevada is sixteen."

"Uh…I'm afraid to know why you know that."

"In three years she'll be eighteen and you'll be thirty-five. Seventeen years is socially acceptable. Heck, look at Donald Trump and Melania, they're twenty eight years apart. If she marries at eighteen, she'll be able to make babies for decades."

The joke going a little too far, Greg anxiously said, "Okay, it's official, you're squicking me out."

"Hey…" Nick called from the hallway. "I heard yelling. What's…"

"Oh my word!" Jan's hands rushed to her cheeks. "CSI Stokes, you look terribly ill."

"Mrs. Sanders?" In the haze of a high fever he couldn't process why she was in his living room.

"My mom came for a surprise visit," Greg informed his housemate. "Sorry we woke you. Nordic people are loud when they greet each other."

"It's okay." Nick clutched the wall to keep from falling over.

"You really look dreadful." Reaching into her purse, Jan retrieved her mini ear thermometer. "Let me check your temperature, dear." She rushed forward wielding the thermometer like a pistol.

"Uh…okay." _She keeps a thermometer in her purse?_ In his fevered delirium, Nick turned his cheek and pointed to his ear, in case the crazed woman had plans to stick it in his ass.

Greg mouthed 'sorry' from across the room.

"103.7!" Jan shrieked, "That's very high for an adult and the margin of error for this thermometer is .4, you could be over 104 degrees."

"And that's with Tylenol in him," Greg interjected, his concern growing.

"Let's see your throat, Nick." Jan reached into her bag for her emergency flashlight. "Young man, your tonsils are fire red and covered in pus. It's most definitely strep. How long have you been on antibiotics?"

"He's a germphobe," Greg explained, "he won't go to urgent care to get checked because he's afraid he'll get something worse."

"Do you have any allergies to medication?" the worried mother queried. "Antibiotics in particular."

"I don't have any problems takin' antibiotics, or any medicine for that matter."

"Good." Jan grabbed her cell phone. "I'll call Dr. Goodman. He's a family friend here in Vegas. He'll phone in a script."

"Seriously?" Nick perked up. "Thanks, Mrs. S."

Jan patted the cowboy's flushed cheek. "Mrs. S, that's adorable. I like that."

"Mom, leave the poor guy alone."

"Come! Get him to the couch, Gregory." Jan waved her son forward. "He can barely stand."

Nick smiled at his mortified buddy as they ambled to the couch arm in arm. "I can't believe your mom has a thermometer and a flashlight in her purse."

"She also carries mace and a taser, so don't piss her off. But really, you don't have to humor her for my sake."

"Are you kidding? I'm one of seven kids," Nick reminded his only child housemate, "I didn't get a lot of spoiling. This is great."

"Okay." Greg helped his ill housemate onto the couch. "But just remember, when she tries to change you into fresh undies, you encouraged her."

Walking into the kitchen, the overprotective mother shook her head when she found all the ingredients for her mother's chicken soup had already been purchased. _Cooking._ "Hello, Benny…" She spoke into her cell. "It's Jan Sanders. I'm in Vegas visiting Gregory and the poor boy needs a round of Zithromax and something for throat pain, could you phone it in?" Peering into the living room, she watched her son placing a blanket over his housemate. "Thank you. I still feel like I owe you for all the strings you pulled when Greggy was injured." She nodded. "Yes, that plastic surgeon you called in was a genius. A stranger would never know what he'd been through." But she wasn't a stranger, she was his mother, a woman who knew every scar on the outside of his body as well as the ones hidden inside. "Walgreens on Independence and Weaver, got it." Her gaze drifted to the fridge and a note written in her son's handwriting on a memo board 'Laundry day is Wednesday' _Laundry! _Jan rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'd love to have dinner while I'm in town. I'll call Sally tomorrow to work out the details. Have a good night." She snapped the phone closed and glanced up in time to see her sweet, lovable boy smiling at Nick. "Honey…"

"Yeah, Mom?"

"Walgreens on Independence and Weaver, do you know where that is?"

"Yep, it's right around the corner from Catherine's house."

Jan decided to gauge her worries by how fast her son ran out the door to help his housemate. "Dr. Goodman is phoning in Zithromax and Vicodin cough syrup in your name. You can pick it up at that Walgreens whenever you have a chance."

"Cool, I'm on my way." Greg hurried to the counter, grabbed his keys and rushed for the door. "Be right back with your drugs, Cletus!" _Doh! I hope she didn't hear that. _

When the door shut, Jan breezed into the living room. "Cletus? Is that your middle name?"

"No," Nick chuckled in spite of his headache. "It's a nickname Greg came up with after this joke I played."

"Ah."_ And a cute nickname rounds out the trinity of impending disaster! _Jan fluffed a pillow and tucked it under the patient's head. "My son is my life, Nick, and I want you to promise me that you'll always look out for his safety."

"Absolutely, Mrs. S." Nick assured the nervous woman, "I know how worried you must be after almost losing him. My mom was really freaked after I almost died on the job."

"I'm terrified." She knelt next to the couch. "I'd also like to ask you to be patient with him if he irritates you around the house in any way. I coddled him as a boy and it's my fault that he's quirky, please don't get upset with him."

"Trust me, after eight years, I know he's abnormal." He patted her hand. "All kidding aside, you don't have to worry. I have a state of the art security system installed here, so no one's gettin' in. And don't tell him, but I've been enjoying his company. He's funny as hell, makes one of hell of a breakfast burrito, and he's much more considerate than my sisters were growin' up. He can stay as long as he'd like."

"So, you'll give me your word that he'll be safe here?"

"Of course' you have my word." Seeing tears in the worried mother's eyes, Nick assured her, "Ask anyone who knows me, trust and loyalty mean everything to me, I'm a stand up guy. I'd never hurt or betray a friend. You can take that to the bank." He gave a firm nod, "I won't let you down."

* * *

"I'm home." Sara tossed her keys on the entry table and kicked off her shoes. Padding down the hall, she called out a second time, "I'm home!" _I guess you're not home. I really wanted you to be home._ She had called his cell to say she was on her way and just assumed he had answered it at home. 

When she hit the candle-lit living room, she knew the lack of a reply was part of a plan to surprise her.

"Welcome home, honey." Gil greeted his exhausted significant other with an open bottle of her favorite beer. "Relaxation is tonight's theme. I laundered your favorite yoga pants and sweatshirt; they're in the dryer staying warm as we speak. I'm prepping one of your favorite dinners: avocado tacos, black beans and rice. Lastly, there's a bathtub full of lavender salts and bubbles waiting for you if you'd like to soak while I cook."

"Wow."

Gil tossed the dish towel he was holding over his shoulder. "It's been a long, long time since I got a 'wow' out of anyone." He took her in his arms. "Thank you."

"Thank **you. **No one has ever given me a Theme Night." As he hugged her, the stress of the day faded. "You really shouldn't be taking care of me when you're the one who is sick."

"I'm feeling better," he lied, hoping the antibiotics and painkillers he downed would keep his symptoms at bay. "But I wouldn't kiss me, just to be safe. How are you doing? I still can't believe you volunteered to break the news to Jenni."

"It felt like the right thing to do." She dropped her head on his shoulder. "But it was hell. They have her heavily sedated now. She was moving around too much and with all the pins in her hip and leg, they had to get her to sleep."

"Was it cathartic?" Gil asked, hoping for something positive.

"No, just painful."

"Oh."

"This, on the other hand, is very pleasurable." She strengthened her embrace, then asked, "I want the hot bath, but I want your arms around me. What would it take to convince you to join me in the tub?"

"You just did." Holding her hand, he led her to the bathroom. "Dinner is prepped and can be cooked whenever you're ready."

"Candles around the tub too." Sara glanced over. "Wow."

"When I was boy, my mother watched soap operas," Gil casually remarked while shucking his clothes. "I'd read in an easy chair, but whenever there was a love scene, I'd peek. It was the closest thing to sex education that a Catholic boy could get at home."

"It was a little different in my house." Sara tossed her sweater. "My parents screwed each other all over the place, so my first glimpse of sex was my father pinning my mother down on the kitchen table and taking her from behind."

"Exposure to rough sex at a young age will mess with a little girl's mind," Gil replied as Forensic Psychologist more than a boyfriend. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so clinical."

Trying desperately to change her morose mood, Sara forced a playful reply, "You're cute when you're clinical." Her clothes shed, she stepped into the tub and waited. "And unlike most boys, you like geeky girls." She chuckled, "Jenni said that today in reference to Greg."

Stepping into the tub, Gil replied, "What's not to like about geeky girls?" He took a seat and positioned himself for company.

"That's what I said to her!" Laughing again, Sara eased back until she was resting on her lover's chest. "I said any girl can paint her nails, but only geeky girls can formulate their own polish."

"I love that." His arms wrapping around the magnificent woman sharing his tub and life, he whispered, "I love you."

Sara froze in the steamy bath.

"You don't have to say anything." He strengthened his embrace. "I just wanted you to know."

After a full minute of listening to bath bubbles pop, Sara turned and lifted her eyes to the man who loved her. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but…I have to vomit."

"Excuse me?" Gil watched the love of his life rush out of the tub and over to the toilet. _She's seriously vomiting. _He climbed out of the tub, wrapped a towel around his waist and retrieved Sara's robe from its hook on the back of the bathroom door. "Honey…"

After flushing the toilet and wiping her face with the back of her hand, she glanced up panting, "Stressful day…nasty slice of greasy pizza…nerves…I love you too…this isn't morning sickness in case you were worried…round two." She whirled around to position herself above the bowl.

Grinning like the love struck fool he was, Gil stood in the bathroom and waited for the latest round of retching to end.

When round two was over, Sara sat against the wall.

"So, you're not pregnant and you love me."

Her stomach still flipping, Sara nodded. "Since you grew up watching soap operas and I vomited twice in one week, I figured you'd jump to the pregnancy conclusion."

"Ah." He chuckled and handed her a wet washcloth for her face.

"I was just about to get to the 'I love you too' in the tub when I had to hurl." Laughing at herself, she said, "Pretty romantic, huh? How did our 'first I love you' scene compare to your childhood glimpses of Days of Our Lives?"

"Sadly, you never see this kind of realism on soaps. This was much better." Gil took a seat on the floor across from Sara. "We've never discussed kids. Do you…"

"God no." Holding the cool washcloth to her forehead, she anxiously asked, "Do you?"

He shook his head.

"To summarize," Sara managed a smile, "we love each other and don't want children."

"Good indicators of long-term compatibility."

"Long term, huh?" Sara kneaded the washcloth. "You think that's a possibility? I've never been a part of happy ending…a happy anything, at least not for more than three months. It's hard to visualize something that you've never observed or done." Vulnerability flooding her voice, she confessed, "Every man I've ever trusted has let me down."

"I was one of them."

Sara acknowledged the remark with silence.

"All I can say is, this time..." He gently pulled her into his arms. "I won't let you down."

* * *

Greg had no problem finding the Walgreens Drug Store, because it was around the corner from Catherine's house and he had driven by it every time his partner wanted to stop at her house on the way to or from a scene. 

"Hi." He smiled at the counter girl, "Two prescriptions for Greg Sanders, they were called in by Dr. Goodman."

Claire, the pharmacy tech checked her computer. "Zithromax and Hydrocodone cough syrup?"

"Yep, that's it." He reached for his wallet.

"Sorry, it'll be about another five minutes. We got swamped."

"No sweat, I'll do some shopping and come back."

While Greg headed to the Hallmark section to buy his mother a card, he had no idea he was being watched and photographed.

Once the picture was on her camera phone, Catherine frantically dialed Warrick.

"Hey, Cath, what's up?" Warrick groggily answered. "I was just nodding off, so **please** don't tell me we're being called in."

In an excited whisper, she said, "Remember how we were joking about Nick letting Greg wear his Aggie sweatshirt? You said it would be a cold day in hell, remember?"

"This is why you woke me up? I told you, don't joke around about…"

"I was making a tampon run at the Walgreens around the corner from my house when I heard Greg's name and voice at the pharmacy counter. He's here and he's wearing Nick's A&M sweatshirt."

"You woke me up to joke about this shit again?"

"I knew you wouldn't believe me, so I took a picture with my camera phone!" Spying on her coworker, she said, "He's picking up Zithromax and cough syrup, but we know he's not sick, Nicky is. And…oh my god…he's buying him a Hallmark card, a get well balloon, and flowers."

"Damn."

"I know!"

"We can't say anything, Cath. Promise me this is just between us, alright? We'll try to figure out what's going on and hopefully…it's all just a big misunderstanding."

* * *

**ANs: **

I like to dole out backstory in tiny pieces, but if you add it up, you've learned a lot about Sara and Greg's pasts and are starting to see some common themes.

Thanks to KJT for her careful editing and ongoing GSR consultation services!

**Maggs **


	9. Chapter 9: Visible Evidence

**Where You Are  
****Written By:** **Ms Maggs ****/ Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 9: Visible Evidence**

"How are you feeling this morning, Honey?" Sara asked as she padded into Gil's home office. It was the first time she had used the term of endearment on him and as soon as she said it, she declared it 'weird' and vowed to never utter it in reference to him again. "Any better?" _Any better, baby? _She cringed. _Baby sounds way too soft-core. _She silently tried another alternative. _Any better, sweetie? That's so not me. _The quest continued. _Any better, Griss? No, the guys all call him that. _

"A little better. Thanks for asking, Sweetheart." _Sweetheart? Where did that come from? I've never called her that. That's what I used to call Diane._ He shivered, hoping it wasn't a sign that things would turn out the same with Sara as they had with his ex-girlfriend.

_Sweetheart? He's never called me that before._ Her grin expanded. _I kind of like it actually. Oh god, I'm turning into one of those lovestruck idiots I used to make fun of._ Her goofy grin faded.

"Penny for your thoughts."

"Oh, uh…I was wondering why your side of the bed is untouched?"

"I slept in the guest room," he replied while removing his glasses.

Leaning against his antique desk, Sara copped an analytical tone, "I say 'I love you' and you spend the night in the guest room. What does that mean?"

"It means I didn't want to infect you."

"How considerate."

Gil returned his lover's smile.

"I know I kind of missed the mark on the nurturing girlfriend thing, so I was going to grab a quick shower and then head to The Egg Spot for some take out and spend a little time spoiling you today."

"I'm starving, so I'll gladly accept the eggs, but I think we can put any doubts over your innate ability to nurture to rest." Tucking her hair behind her ear, Gil said, "Watching you in the hospital with Jenni, it was quite clear that you have a very high capacity to nurture. You just don't waste it on old men who really can take care of themselves, and that's fine with me, save it for kids out there who need it."

"You think I helped her?"

"I know you did." Gil tenderly smoothed his palm over her back while sharing, "I spoke briefly with her grandfather. Jenni had told him all about you and Greg. She told him you were just like the big sister she always wished for as a little girl."

"Really?"

Gil nodded.

"I used to wish for a big sister too." Sara's voiced trailed off, "When my parents would fight, I'd hide in my room. I had this big stuffed monkey that my father won for me at a carnival on one of the good days. I'd hold its hand, pretending it was my big sister's. I'd fall asleep like that and in the morning, I'd still be holding its hand." Shaking off the memory, she asked, "What did Jenni say about Greg?"

Gil couldn't keep a straight face while repeating the teen's sentiment, "That he was the sweetest, cutest, smartest, funniest boy she'd every met."

"Aww." Sara chuckled into her hand.

"Grandpa Joe says to me 'This Greg must be a genius if he's working as a CSI when he's a teenager'."

"A teenager?" Sara quizzed.

"From the way his granddaughter had been speaking, he assumed Greg was eighteen, not thirty-two."

"I…"

The ring of the doorbell halted the conversation.

"It's Sunday morning," Sara cinched her robe tighter. "Who could that be?"

"It's probably Ms. Weiss looking for milk to feed her cats." Gil stood and walked out of the room. "I'm dressed, I'll get it."

"I'll hit the shower."

When Gil made it to the front door, he was surprised to see Jim standing on his doorstep.

"I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd bring a sick friend some breakfast." Brass held up two brown sacks. "I feel bad, I used to do this all the time, but with Ellie around now, I've been spending my Sundays off with her."

"Uh, I'm sorry, can you just wait here a second, while I…" Gil spoke as he started to close the door. "I was just wrapping up a phone call. Give me a minute, thanks." After shutting the door, he ran to warn his roommate. "Sara…" He rushed into the bathroom. "Jim is at the front door with breakfast. I have to let him in, so don't come out."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes." He hurried back to the living room, making sure to remove anything that belonged to Sara.

"Jim!" After stowing everything in the hall closet, he raced to check the guest bathroom. "Uh, be right there!"

* * *

"How are you feeling this morning, Honey?" Jan Sanders asked as she breezed into Nick's bedroom wearing her favorite terry cloth bathrobe and a sunny smile. "It's eleven am, and you're overdue for your medicine." Coming to rest at the edge of the bed, she shook the lump burrowed under the covers. "You can go right back to sleep after taking…" 

Startled by the unexpected grab while he was lightly sleeping, Nick threw back the covers and instinctively lunged for the intruder.

"I'm sorry!" The terrified woman screamed. "Please! You're hurting me."

His mother's cry for help had Greg leaping out of bed and tearing across the hall. "What's going on?!" The sight of his housemate with a vice grip on his mother's wrist sent him into a panic. "Nick! It's my mom! Let her go!"

The sound of a familiar voice saying his name snapped the startled man out of his daze. "Uh…" He gulped air and tried to make sense of what happened. "Oh my God." Releasing Jan, he groveled, "I'm so sorry, I...I didn't mean to scare you."

"He has PTSD from the abduction," Greg explained while taking his shaken mother in his arms. "This isn't the first time something like this has happened." He held her tight. "You can't sneak up on him or startle him when he's sleeping, okay? He flips out. I should have warned you."

Nick winced upon hearing the statement, believing Sofia must have told him what really happened in Boulder City even though she swore she wouldn't tell anyone.

"No harm done. I'm fine, Honey," she assured her son who had run from his room wearing the Abercrombie boxers she had given him for Christmas and one of his silly t-shirts. "Aww, those moose shorts look very cute on you, Sweetie. Are they comfy?" She reached for the left hem to feel the fabric. "Ooh, yes, very soft. Do you want me to pick up some more the next time I'm at the mall?"

"Could we um, not talk about my underwear right now?" Greg motioned to his jittery housemate. "We were kind of in the middle of something here, remember?"

"Oh!" Feeling bad for traumatizing Nick, Jan hurried over and gave the poor man a hug. "Please don't be embarrassed, I'm the same way when I get startled, and it was my fault for barging in here. I was in 'Mommy Overdrive' as Greggy would say. I didn't want you to miss a dose of your medicine."

"Thanks, Mrs. S, for thinking of me, and for not bein' upset." Feeling chilly in his plaid flannel pajama bottoms, Nick walked to his closet for a sweatshirt.

Suddenly craving a little medical relief herself, Jan pointed to the door. "If you'll excuse me, I have cinnamon rolls in the oven I need to check on. They'll be ready shortly, boys. Freshly squeezed OJ too!" She hurried for the guest room and her Valium bottle.

"Are you okay?" Greg asked when his mother was gone.

"After making a fool of myself in front of you and your mom?" Nick droned from the closet. "No, I feel stupider than shit." Returning with a blue hooded sweatshirt on, he huffed, "When did Sofia tell you about me flipping out on her? Was it before or after I told you she stopped flirting with me because of a boredom bang? Because if you stood there laughing when you knew I never had sex with her…"

"Actually, um…Sofia didn't tell me anything."

"What?! Are you…dammit!" Nick wanted to kick himself in the ass for spilling the secret. "Then what the hell were you talkin' about when you said this wasn't the first time?"

Although Greg was anxious about sharing what he knew, he was relieved to get it out in the open. "Remember how you told me all about your date with Car-ina?' He leaned against the wall and confessed, "I **literally** bumped into a cocktail waitress at the Tangiers last week when Warrick and I were called there. I saw the red head's nametag said Carina and I introduced myself as your good friend and housemate, saying that you had told me about your date. She was really sweet, and very worried about you, a fellow Texan. I guess she could sense I was concerned too, so she…"

"She told you what happened." Nick averted his eyes. "So you've known I'm a liar and a freak for about a week now, huh? Great." His humiliation grew greater by the second. "What else do you know that you're not telling me?"

"Relax, man, I'm not you're enemy," Greg replied, treading cautiously into sensitive territory. "I didn't tell you about Carina, because I wasn't sure how you'd react to me confronting you about your…issues, for lack of a better term. Beyond your over the top date stories and a snippet about your family every now and then, you're very guarded when it comes to your personal life and what's going on in your head. I didn't want to cross the line and get you pissed at me, because…well, this sounds a little selfish now but, I like living here and didn't want to rock the boat." He dropped a hand on his troubled buddy's shoulder. "Please don't worry about me telling anyone about what happened with Carina or Sofia, because I won't. Anything personal I witness on the job or at home, any secrets that I accidentally learn about you, or ones you tell me in confidence…it's between you and me. I'm not going to run to work and tell Catherine or anyone." Removing his hand, he confirmed, "You should feel comfortable in your own home, so please know you don't have to hide anything from me, and if you need an ear, don't hesitate to talk to me. When I'm not in the middle of one of my own personal dramas, I'm a great listener."

Staring at his overly concerned housemate, Nick processed the information in silence for a minute, and then nodded. "Thanks."

"No problem." Hoping a joke would ease the tension, Greg said, "Unless of course you tell people I wear the moose underwear my mommy buys me. Then all bets are off."

"Yeah, your mom buyin' you undies is weird." Grateful for the levity, Nick cracked a smile. "But I think her feelin' you up was **much** weirder."

"She did not!" Greg's goofy laugh filled the room.

"Dude, I was right there."

"What you saw was a very innocent fabric quality check to determine if her money had been well spent."

Nick deadpanned his reply, "Is** that** what the kids are callin' crotch grabbin' nowadays?"

Unable to say the first thought that entered his mind, Greg held up his hands in a show of surrender. "Okay, Cletus, since it's obvious that you were paying **very **close attention to my crotch, we'll go with your eye witness account." While grinning at the priceless expression on his buddy's face, he heard his mother's singsong voice shooting down the hallway.

"Greg, Honey!"

_Not now, mother! _

"Are you still in the bedroom with Nicky?!"

"Yeah!" He chuckled all the way to the door.

"Put some clothes on!" Jan shouted at her boxer-clad son, "The woman who exploded the lab and almost killed you is here to see you."

"Catherine?" Greg heard Nick cringe from across the room.

"Tell her I'm too sick for visitors just yet."

Jan yelled from the living room, "Gregory, she has a gift to commemorate your heroics the other night. Isn't that sweet? Tell Nicky come out with you, unless he's not feeling up to it."

_Tell Nicky to come out with me. Ha! Make up your mind, mother, do you want me to like boys or not? _"Unfortunately, Nicky's not up to coming out just yet!"

Jan cheerily replied, "Then you can have Catherine all to yourself I guess."

_Yeah, too bad Cath's childbearing years are behind her, or I could make your day and hump her in the living room while you serve cinnamon rolls and pray I get her pregnant with twins._ Laughing hysterically, Greg glanced down the hall and saw Catherine holding a gift bag and gaping. "Uh, be right there!"

* * *

"Sorry to keep you waiting." Gil opened the door and motioned for Jim to come in. "It was an employee issue I was dealing with and while I trust you emphatically, it would have been a violation of policy to allow you to overhear what I was saying." 

"Sounds like code for 'I have a babe in my bed'."

"Don't I wish?" Gil smirked on his way into the kitchen. "Coffee or morning cocktail?"

"Coffee, thanks."

"I already have a pot made."

"Great." Jim placed the bags on the counter. "It feels good to resume this ritual."

"Yes indeed."

Taking a seat on his usual stool, Jim asked, "How have you been spending your Sundays off?"

While filling two mugs, Gil casually replied, "Bugs and books, a few movies…same old same old."

"Bugs, books and movies, huh?" Brass took the mug his long-time friend was handing him. "Not cross dressing?"

"Excuse me?"

Jim pointed to the open laundry room door. "I saw some bras drying on a rack in there and thought you might have a new hobby."

Gil whirled around. "That's an experiment."

"Yeah," the seasoned cop gave a hearty laugh, "Most guys conduct it in college, but I guess you're a late bloomer." As his friend sneered, Jim asked, "So what's the verdict? Straight, gay or bi?"

* * *

"Sorry to keep you waiting." Greg breezed into the kitchen wearing a weathered white t-shirt and the distressed True Religion jeans he had pulled from the shopping bag of designer clothes his mother had brought for him. "Thanks for stopping by, Cath." He gave her a friendly hug. "Did my mom get you something to drink?" He headed for the fridge like a good host. 

"I'm okay, thanks. I can only stay a few minutes." As her co-worker bent over to grab something from the fridge, her gaze darted to his ass. "True Religion jeans."

"You like them? They're new."

"Lindsay keeps begging me to give her three hundred dollars to buy a pair." _Damn his ass looks good in those jeans. If I'm getting turned on by Greg, then I know I'm desperate. Ugh this sexual dry spell is killing me!_ "Did Grissom give you a raise?"

"Nah." With a carton of half and half in hand, he went to the counter to make himself a cup of coffee "The jeans were a gift."

Catherine fell silent. _A gift? Who would want to give him an expensive pair of jeans that made his ass look irresistible? _

"My mom always brings me a shopping bag full of clothes when she comes for a visit."

"How…" _squicky_ "…nice of her to want to dress you even though you're thirty-two." Seeing the flowers he had purchased at Walgreens, Catherine casually remarked, "That's a pretty flower arrangement on the kitchen table."

After a sip of coffee Greg said, "My mom likes having fresh flowers in the house, so I bought them for her."

"Ah." _That explains that._

"We kind of had a little argument when she first got here, so I bought her flowers, a card and some chocolate."

_That's what a husband buys his wife when they have a marital dispute. _"You're a sweet boy, Greggo." When he flashed his cutest smile, she melted. "That reminds me." She snatched her gift bag from the counter. "I bought you something to commemorate you reaching hero status."

"You didn't have to." He dove into the gift bag and chuckled when he saw a t-shirt with the Superman S logo on it. "This is great. Thanks."

"How is the girl?"

"As good as can be expected." He neatly folded the shirt and returned it to the bag. "I went by the hospital last night and brought her a balloon and her favorite candy."

_So the balloon and candy wasn't for Nick._ "You better be careful, teenage girls develop crushes very easily."

"I'm more than twice her age," Greg laughed. "I really doubt she'd think of me that way."

"Hell, when I was fifteen, I was crushing on forty year olds."

_Eww._ Greg lifted his coffee mug. "Are you sure I can't get you a cup? My mom has cinnamon rolls in and…" The laundry buzzer cut him off.

"I'll get it!" Jan appeared out of nowhere.

"June Cleaver to the rescue!" Greg joked.

Jan excitedly informed her son. "I washed the sweatshirt Nick was nice enough to lend you the other night when you gave that sweet little girl your shirt. I'm sure he'll be happy to get it back." _And I'll be happy to give it to him._

_So that's why he was wearing the sweatshirt!_ Suddenly feeling like an idiot, Catherine pointed to her watch. "I'd really love to stay for coffee, but I have to get Lindsay somewhere. It was nice seeing you again, Mrs. Sanders."

"Yes, likewise." Jan waved from the laundry room. "Take care and please remember to be careful around the lab, dear."

"I promise."

"I'll walk you out." Greg took the lead.

_Ugh, there's that cute ass again._ Catherine grabbed her purse. _I really hope Warrick gets over his divorce blues soon. Maybe when I call to report that he was right and there was a logical explanation for Greg wearing Nick's sweatshirt, he'll want to meet up for lunch. _

Once Catherine was outside, Jan yelled down the hall, "Coast is clear, Nicky. Cinnamon buns are just about done!" _Ooh! That rhymes. _

Nick was in the kitchen seconds later. "Mmmm, they smell great. Thanks, Mrs. S." _These will almost make up for you invading my privacy and scaring the shit out of me. _

As the Valium kicked in, Jan morphed into a Stepford Wife," Have a seat, Nicky. I'm more than happy to serve you."

"A guy could really get used to be spoiled like this." Nick took a seat at the counter, excited for another homecooked meal.

"You'll be happy to know that I washed your sweatshirt too." Jan handed it over. "Thank you for letting my son borrow it the other night."

"Oh." When he saw Greg walking into the house, he joked, "Actually it's not my sweatshirt anymore, Mrs. S." He tossed it at his buddy. "I traded it for your son's plasma TV."

"That's hardly a fair trade," Jan remarked, wondering if she misunderstood or accidentally took to much Valium. "Sweatshirts are less than a hundred dollars, that TV cost thousands."

_And the look on your face when I say this next line will be priceless!_ "It's not just any sweatshirt, Mom, it's…very special." Patting the A&M logo, he watched his mom kiss her dreams of grandchildren goodbye while waiting for his buddy to back him up and set things straight.

"That's right," Nick laughed, "It's an **Aggie **sweatshirt."

_I knew the Texan wouldn't let me down._ "Told you so, Mom."

"Oh!" Jan nodded, finally catching up. "Because he thinks his team is special, the sweatshirt is special."

"Yeah," Nick ripped into his cinnamon bun. "But I don't just **think** the Aggies are special, I **know** they are."

Just to irk the meddlesome mother he always loved but sometimes loathed, Greg donned the sweatshirt and purposely drove the woman over the edge. "Hey, Cletus…if you like Grandma Olaf's cinnamon buns, just wait until I make you her tiramisu." When Jan pursed her lips tighter than a clam shell he celebrated his success.

Doling out a cinnamon roll for the son she could never figure out, Jan pondered the question she had been agonizing over for decades…straight, gay or bi?

* * *

"Thanks again for bringing me breakfast, Jim." Grissom walked his guest to the front door. 

As he stepped outside, Jim's tone took a serious turn. "You know you can trust me with anything, right? I mean, I gave you the authority to pull the plug on my life, so it would stand to reason I'd never do something to piss you off."

"Yes, of course," Grissom confirmed without hesitation. "Is something on your mind?"

"I know those **black bras **hanging in your laundry room aren't yours."

"Oh." Grissom stuffed his hands in his pockets. "It has nothing to do with me not trusting you, it's…it's complicated."

"I know, I know." Jim gave a reassuring smile. "Ecklie and the Under Sheriff would be all over you about it." When he saw his friend's busted expression, he chuckled, "You think I haven't noticed? From the first time I saw the two of you interact, I knew the spark was there. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

"Thank you, Jim."

"But I will privately bust your balls about it every chance I get."

"Fair enough." Grissom laughed along with his friend.

"So tell me, pal," Jim leaned in, "what's it like living with a dominatrix?"

"She yells at me if I miss the hamper."

"Yeah, but does she spank your ass for it?"

"No." Grissom laughed at the absurd imagery of Sara bending him over her knee. "Hey, I better get back inside, because she's been hiding for over an hour."

Jim pretended to crack a whip. "Look who doesn't want to piss off his lady."

"Exactly."

"And I certainly don't want to get on her bad side by keeping her waiting." Jim walked backwards grinning at his buddy and made another whip crack sound. "Honestly, I wasn't all that surprised to hear Sanders and Stokes were playing house. Watching those two together sometimes, I can see them vacationing on Brokeback Mountain, but you and Lady Heather shacking up..." He laughed as he opened his car door. "Shocking!"

* * *

**ANs**: 

Thanks to KJT for editing and for the chapter title, _Visible Evidence_. Lots of visible evidence in this chapter…but for the characters, it led to more confusion, no conclusion, or the wrong conclusion!

**Thanks for reading! **

**Maggs **


	10. Chapter 10: Taking One for the Team

**Where You Are**

**Written By:** **Ms Maggs ****/ Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 10: Taking One for the Team**

"Uh oh." When they reached the nurse's station, Sara turned to Greg and said, "We got lunch, but forgot drinks."

"Doh!" Greg set the Taco Bell bags on the counter and dipped into his pocket for cash.

"You go on ahead." Sara snatched the money from her coworker's hand. "I'll run down to the cafeteria and grab some sodas."

"I want change, Sidle!"

"Dream on." Sara waved the money and walked away.

"Greg!" Fifty one year old Nurse Mindy Thomas rushed over to speak with her favorite hospital visitor. "I'm so glad you're here. Jenni had a really rough morning and her grandfather is back in California until tomorrow."

"What happened?" he asked the sweet woman he had come to know and respect over the last three weeks. Out of the dozens of nurses that rotated through shifts, she was one of the few who went above and beyond to help Jenni. "How bad is the pain? Is it a complication from last week's hip surgery?"

"No, that would be easier to deal with," Mindy sighed. "One of the injured children from the bus crash was well enough to go outside for some fresh air today. His nurse was wheeling him by Jenni's room and when he saw her, he started screaming that her mother killed their friends. I felt so awful for her. The poor thing has seen her mother vilified on TV and in the papers. I'm not defending her mother in any way, if she had survived the accident, I'd want her to get the death penalty for driving drunk and causing the accident, but I can't stand to see Jenni as the target of the hatred when she's a victim too. A news reporter snuck up here yesterday and tried to get an interview with her, can you believe it?"

"Yeah." Greg's heart ached for the girl. "Those reporters are vicious, I'm not even sure they're human."

"You should know," Nurse Lawanda Jordan rolled her eyes, "your face was all over the TV again after the payout. Hey, are you like Bill Gates's nephew or somethin, because you're droppin' a ton on your little girlfriend only a few weeks after payin' the James family all that hush money."

"It wasn't hush money and it wasn't my money," Greg snapped at the nurse who had been giving him a hard time since the day they met. "And I've asked you repeatedly to stop calling Jenni my girlfriend." With that he grabbed the Taco Bell bags and marched off.

Mindy glared at her coworker. "Would you back off already? He's a **sweet **guy."

"That's your opinion. I think he's a creep for comin' on to a fourteen year old." Lawanda stood and grabbed her patient's chart. "But hey, if he can get away with murder, he's probably not real worried about gettin' busted for puttin' the moves on a minor."

"You're twisted."

"Am I?" Lawanda pointed to Jenni's room. "Girlfriend sleeps with loverboy's sweater under her pillow and his teddy bear in her arms. She's not five, she's a month shy of fifteen. You **know **she's pretendin' that damn geek bear is him. She's eatin' his chocolate, callin' him on his cell phone at all hours and gigglin' at his dumbass jokes. If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck, it's a duck, and she's his girlfriend."

"He saved her life and she's developed a schoolgirl crush, but he thinks of her like a kid sister."

"It's not a crush, she's head over heels in love with him, and loverboy doesn't have a girlfriend, 'cause if he did, she would have come here with him to see what's what at least once** and** she wouldn't be puttin' up no cell phone calls from a lovestruck kid!" When Lawanda looked into Jenni's room, she turned her eyes to the heavens. "Oh Lord help us, they're cuddling in bed."

When Mindy saw Greg sitting on the edge of the bed stroking Jenni's hair as she sobbed in his arms, she retorted, "He's consoling her because she's bawling her eyes out!"

"And what's he gonna want in return when she's well enough to give it to him some day?"

"Stop making something innocent sound nasty!"

"What's going on?" Sara asked when she saw the nurses pointing at Jenni's room and arguing.

Lawanda walked off shaking her head. "We were watchin' today's episode of The Young and The Creepy, but if I watch any more of loverboy playin' touchy feely with his girlfriend, I'll lose my appetite for lunch."

"What?" Sara asked in disbelief.

"You heard me!"

* * *

"Uh oh." Walking down the hall with Grissom, Nick saw the Undersheriff stomping down the hall in their direction. "Someone's on the war path again." 

"Grissom!" McKeen snarled from fifty feet away. "Where's Sanders?"

The mention of his buddy's name grabbed Nick's attention. "He was out workin' a case with Sara Sidle and they're off the clock havin' lunch. Can I help you with somethin'?"

"Stay out of this, Stokes." The undersheriff stepped in front of Grissom. "The Sheriff's office just received a call from a nurse at University Medical Center. She called to tell me that my **favorite **CSI, Greg Sanders, is actively pursuing a romantic relationship with that fourteen year old girl he found at the scene of the bus accident."

"What?!" Nick blurted. "That's crazy. Greg's not…"

"I said stay out of this, Stokes!"

Nick clamped his lips, crossed his arms, and muttered, "You better say somethin' Griss."

"I agree with Nick," Grissom finally replied. "That's crazy, Greg thinks of the girl like a little sister, just like Sara does. They both visit her daily."

Not backing down, McKeen shared, "Sanders has given that impressionable teenager a dozen different gifts, he allows her to call his personal cell phone, and she has his photo on her nightstand!"

Finding it impossible to keep quiet, Nick said, "It's not **a photo**, it's the damn article from the newspaper talkin' about him findin' her. Hell, I cut out the article about my friends savin' my ass, so to use your logic, Grissom's my girlfriend."

In no mood for insubordination, the undersheriff barked, "Stokes! One more word out of you in defense of Sanders and you'll have three days of unpaid vacation, a.k.a suspension!"

Fed up from his friend being McKeen's abuse target for months, Nick very calmly ensured some time off, "I've watched Greg's reaction to pedophile cases, and there's **no doubt** in my mind that he believes inappropriate sexual conduct is repulsive."

"Three days suspension, Stokes!"

"Okay, doke." Nick slapped his ID in Grissom's hand and started down the hall. "But it's the County's loss."

"Get back here, Nick!" Gil was furious with himself for letting things get out of hand. "Unsuspend him, McKeen, because I can't afford to have any of my guys off the roster. Your relationship with the voting public isn't going to improve if dead bodies are stinking up the city because I don't have any guys left to send into the field."

"There he is!" McKeen pointed down the hall. "Sanders! Right now!"

"What did I do now?" Greg droned to Sara while wondering why Grissom and Nick looked ready to kill.

"As of this second you are forbidden to see, touch, or communicate with Jenni Riley. I have people calling me reporting you as a potential pedophile, that's serious shit, Sanders. Am I clear? No more teddy bears or candy or late night phone calls. If you violate this order, you** will** lose your job." Without giving the CSI a chance to respond, the undersheriff started walking away.

"What?!" Greg finally protested.

"You heard me!" McKeen kept walking. "You're still suspended for defending your friend, Stokes! And anyone else who comes to his defense will join you!"

"You suspended Nick for defending me?" Taking off in the pompous man's direction, Greg reached his limit. "No, I will not stay away from Jenni!"

"Excuse me, Sanders?" The undersheriff whirled around and loomed over the mouthy CSI. "Did you just tell me no?"

"It's bad enough that I didn't receive any support from you after I almost lost my life, but I have to draw the line." Greg gulped and stood his ground. "You ordered me against speaking in public about the settlement and I followed orders, because of that, people are saying I'm just another rich white guy who got away with murdering a black guy. That's why thatnurse hates me. You** made** her hate me! Now you're ordering me to stay away from Jenni because of what she said…come on, where does it end? If I suddenly stay away from Jenni because that nurse accused me of inappropriate conduct then **once again**, I'm going to look guilty when I'm not. I'm sick of being painted like a monster when all just trying to do the right thing! You have to at least let me explain it to…"

"No contact!" Gritting his teeth, McKeen said, "But I'm in a generous mood, so I'm only going to suspend you for three days, just like your pal Stokes. Use that three days to think about your future, and don't use it to visit Jenni Riley." He ripped the LVPD ID badge off Greg's shirt. "Go!"

"Wait for me, Greg." Sara stopped in front of the red-faced undersheriff. "I've visited Jenni every day, bought her gifts, and held her when she cried. I wonder why Lawanda Jordan is discriminating, and so are you."

"Yes, because you're a girl, Sidle," McKeen huffed, "not a thirty two year old single guy who no one has seen with a woman in years. However, since you're Greg's friend, I can't trust that you won't bring Jenni things on his behalf, so…the same orders apply to you. No contact with the Riley girl."

"That's…" Sara shook her head. "…so not gonna happen. I'll call her grandfather and if he tells me not to see her, fine, but I'm not going to abandon a child who has already lost her mother, her friends, and life as she knew it, because it will make life easier for you."

"You tell him, Sidle!" Nick cheered as he joined his friends. "We're a team, and united we stand."

"And united you'll fall." McKeen held out his palm. "ID, Sidle." When she placed it in his hand, he said, "And the second you step foot in that hospital, you're fired."

Grissom stepped into the middle of the fray. "Can we all please take a breath and be reasonable?"

"Contrary to popular belief, you're not irreplaceable, Grissom." The undersheriff took great pride in knocking the nerdy genius down a peg. "Maybe Ecklie shakes in his shoes when you throw your weight around, but it doesn't work on me. Nothing you're going to say will change my mind, believe me."

"Very well then," Grissom replied while unclipping his badge. "I'll save my breath, hand over my badge and be on my way." After clipping his ID to McKeen's jacket, he put his arm around Greg's shoulder since he couldn't put it on Sara, "Come along, Charlie Bucket."

McKeen stared at the badge and realized his preventative strike had failed. "You can't leave too. If you're all gone, who will be left to handle calls?"

"I don't know. It's not even our shift," Grissom merrily informed the man he was loathing a little more with each passing minute. "Since we're all maxed out on OT, we've actually been working for free for the past three hours. Good luck finding four other people to do that." He resumed walking. "Drinks on me."

"But I don't want a drink, Mr. Wonka," Sara joked in her best Veruca Salt voice, "I want a golden goose, and I want it now."

Gil winked at his secret lover. "Is that code for something, Sidle?"

With four ID badges and no CSIs, McKeen stormed by the group as they laughed. "Dammit!"

"What was that, McKeen?" Nick shouted at the jerk's back.

"You heard me!"

* * *

Twenty four hours into his suspension, Gil was enjoying the quiet Saturday afternoon by sitting on the couch reading when his cell phone rang. "Grissom." 

"It's McKeen."

Gil rolled his eyes. "Yes?"

"I've spoken to Jenni's grandfather and personally interviewed ten other nurses at University Medical Center. All of them agree that Jenni has a crush on Sanders, but they also agree that he has been nothing more than a big brother to her. The grandfather actually broke down in tears saying that Greg and Sara have been instrumental to his granddaughter's recovery."

"How nice to hear." His irritation re-sparked, Gil snipped, "Too bad you already fired Greg and Sara for showing up at the hospital yesterday evening. Have you ever heard of the concept 'innocent until proven guilty'? It really keeps you from making an ass out of yourself…or so I've been told."

"Yeah, yeah, spare me the lecture. I want you to tell them they can have their jobs back."

"I never told them they were fired."

"But I** ordered** you to fire them last night."

Gil nodded as he flipped though his forensics magazine. "Yes, but I'm currently on suspension, remember? I'm forbidden to perform any work responsibilities, so I couldn't fire them without violating the terms of my suspension."

"You think you're so smart."

"Yes, I do," the scientist smugly replied.

"Okay, okay, you win. You're all unsuspended, so get your asses back to the lab. Ecklie's having puppies working OT."

"I'll pass the word along, but as far coming back in…sorry. You said you were a man of your word, so we believed you when you said we'd have three days off. Nick, Greg and Sara have all made plans and won't be able to return until Monday and I can't either. Thanks for calling and have a nice weekend." Gil snapped his phone shut and laughed.

"You're very sexy when you're smug." Sara snickered and slid next to her man on the couch. "Teaching him a lesson, huh?"

"Someone has to." Gil tossed his magazine. "It's only noon. We have almost a whole weekend ahead of us."

"Uh huh." She dove for his neck, and tickled him with a kiss.

"Let's leave town."

"Seriously?"

"Yes." Pulling her close, Gil confessed, "At risk of sounding like a silly romantic, I want a real date. I want to hold your hand in public, and we can't do that in town."

"Aww, a real date, that's not silly, it's sweet." The sentiment put a smile on Sara's face. "I'd like that. Where do you want to go? We can't go too far, because I promised Jenni I'd be there to wish her well before her next surgery tomorrow afternoon, and since she doesn't want Greg there, I need to keep my promise."

"Don't worry, we don't have to go too far, just somewhere remote."

"We'll celebrate you saving my ass with the undersheriff."

Slipping his hand under her cheeks, Gil wiggled his brows, "It's a beautiful ass, how could I not?"

"I know that look." Her eyes locked on his, Sara let her hands wildly roam about her man's receptive body. "Are you up for a little pre-date mischief?"

"Slide your hand due south and you'll know the answer is yes."

While following the directions, she claimed Gil's lips with her mouth, and wasted no time escalating into a lusty kiss.

"Mmm…" Gil sucked in some much needed oxygen. "If this is my reward for helping you keep your job, then I really hope McKeen makes a habit of firing you."

"If you think that now…" Sara slipped off the couch and onto her knees, "just wait."

As she fumbled with his belt, Gil shed his reading glasses with Clark Kent finesse and relaxed into the mushy cushions of their new couch. "You really are grateful, aren't you?"

"So grateful, that you don't even have to reciprocate."

While they had sex quite often, this was a treat indeed. "Sara, you really don't have to…"

"I don't mind taking one for the team every now and then," were the last words she uttered.

"Sara, you're…" Really there were no words to describe her or the glorious feeling swamping him.

Enjoying the verbal praise and primal sounds spilling from her lover's mouth, she intensified her efforts. _It won't be long now._ Seconds later, when it was over, she declared it a personal best. "Did that make you **happy**?" she asked, knowing it was the most rhetorical question she had ever posed.

Gil frantically nodded, as if he was worried she'd deny him the pleasure forever if he wasn't enthusiastic enough with his reply. "Amazingly happy."

Returning her man's pants to their original position, she sweetly asked, "Is there anything you need me to do for this outing we're going on? Planning? Shopping? Packing?"

"No," the fifty year old answered in between gasps for air. "After that…you don't have to do anything for the rest of the weekend…quite possibly for the rest of your life. No, don't worry...I'll take care of all the details."

* * *

"That was Griss." Nick returned his cell phone to its clip and took a seat on the couch next to his depressed housemate who had been mindlessly watching the Discovery Channel for hours. "We're unsuspended, but Griss told him we weren't coming back until Monday." He broke into a smile. "He's teachin' the asshole a lesson, I love it." 

"Great, now I can go back and find a way to screw up my life a little more." Watching a tiger rip a gazelle to shreds on his oversized TV, Greg sighed, "I'll probably rescue a cat from a tree, but a branch will snap and impale a blind, crippled nun who was a day away from finding the cure for cancer."

"G…"

"Her cancer cure notes will be in her pocket, but when I go to save her, I'll accidentally kick up some rocks and cause a spark. The spark will set the nun's dress on fire and she'll burn up, taking the notes with her."

Nick shook his head.

"Her blazing body will roll down a hill into a pet store and all the cute little animals, which were earmarked to be donated to orphans, will be barbequed. To make something good out of all of that, I'll give the roasted pets to the homeless, but they'll get food poisoning and…"

"Stop! Seriously, enough already, you gotta stop beatin' yourself up." Nick turned to face his buddy. "Look, I know yesterday with Jenni was hard, but you had to set her straight. She had a major league crush on you, and it was only going to get worse, not better. Trust me, I know how rough it is to let a girl down, but it was the right thing to do."

"Dude, she's not just **a girl**. She's a girl who just lost her mother and whose friends hate her. She's in traction and needs more surgery or she may never walk again, and when she gets out of the hospital, she's going to California to live with her seventy year old grandpa in some rundown trailer park. Her life sucks on **every **level and I had to look her in the eyes and break her heart. It doesn't help that it was the right thing to do, I feel like shit. It's like I'm cursed to keep repeating the same cycle…I try to do the right thing, it backfires, and end up feeling horrible and guilty. I didn't want to kill Demetrius James, I just wanted to save an innocent guy from dying, but nobody remembers that part. I didn't want Jenni to fall in love with me, I just wanted to cheer her up, but now I'm a heartbreaker." His own heart ached every time he thought of the devastated teen sobbing and throwing the Science Nerd teddy bear in the trash. "Ugh, how stupid am I that I didn't know she wasn't thinking of me like a brother?"

"It has nothing to do with you bein' stupid," Nick assured. "There was this girl in high school, Melanie, she was my Chem partner. I worked side by side with her all year and had no idea she was in love with until she asked me to take her to the prom. I thought we were like brother and sister and she burst into tears when I told her that. It's impossible to know how someone really feels if they keep it hidden. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I've been guilty of doing that myself." Staring at the ceiling, Greg focused on a speck and struggled not to cry. "Anyway, something good has come from this. I think I've finally learned my lesson. Doing nothing is a lot easier than trying to help. I could have driven away. I could have stayed away from the hospital."

"Yeah, you could have." Nick turned sideways, resting on his elbow and quietly replied, "But then Stanley Tanner would be dead and Jenni might be too. When I was in that coffin with a loaded gun, the only thing that kept me from killing myself to end the torture, was the knowledge that there were people waitin' to see me make it out alive, people like my mom, who would have been heartbroken. Jenni might have given up, but she wanted to see you. Hey…for what it's worth, I believe you did the right thing both times, and I hope you don't turn into one of those people who just looks the other way, because there are already way too many of them in this city."

After clearing the emotion from his voice with a harsh cough, Greg softly said, "Thanks, that helps."

"Great, I'm glad I could help, because you said some supportive things to me that day when your mom startled me." Nick nudged his buddy, hoping he'd stop staring into space. "See, you were right, this is good, as long as our personal dramas don't happen at the same time, we'll be able to help each other out."

Finally confident that tears wouldn't fall, Greg turned his head. With Nick staring at him only two feet away, he said, "Yeah, that would be good."

"I have to admit, it's kinda nice to have someone to confide in again."

The steadiness of Nick's gaze making him comfortable, Greg confessed, "Other than my mom, I haven't had anyone to really talk to in years."

"Me either."

"After Sara got suspended, I went to her and flat out told her I was a good listener. I wanted to be there for her, but I was also hoping it would be a two way thing, but she never took me up on it, so..."

"I know how you feel, my sister Gwen and I used to share everything, but," Nick shrugged, "she's got a husband to lean on and kids to worry about now, so she doesn't need me, and whenever I called with somethin' she'd be too busy to chat, so I don't bother anymore." Seeing the emotion in his buddy's eyes, he unfurled a smile. "Hey, you know what you need to do, you need to take your mind off everythin' for a little while and have some fun. You've been sittin' on his couch since you came home from the hospital yesterday. Hell, you even slept here."

"Thanks for tossing a blanket on me by the way."

"No problem." Nick jokingly sniffed the air. "You haven't showered since before shift on Friday, have you?"

Forgetting his problems for a moment, Greg laughed, "No."

"Okay, I got one laugh out of you, that's a start." Nick lunged for his cell phone. "I'm gonna show you a great time tonight, Greggo." He searched his phone directory. "We're going out on a date."

Greg sat straight up. "Uh…a date?"

"That's right." Nick winked.

"Um…" Flustered by the sudden and shocking proposition, Greg stammered, "I…I really didn't expect…sorry, I'm a little overwhelmed right now, because…okay, honestly, I really don't have much experience…how much do you…"

"I don't care if you're overwhelmed or not used to spontaneous dates, don't you dare say no." Nick pointed at him. "I've been watchin' you mope around here for twenty four hours and it's bringin' me down." After sending the call, he flashed a radiant smile. "I'm gonna get you your groove back tonight if it's the last thing I do, and I won't take no for an answer. You need to get laid, buddy!"

His mind blown and his heart racing, Greg anxiously replied, "Okay, whoa…this may not be a big deal to you, but to me it's…"

"Nina! It's Nick Stokes. We met this morning, at…yes, ma'am, the cowboy." He held up his index finger, signaling Greg to hold his thoughts. "You know how you wanted to go out, but you couldn't because you already had plans to take your depressed friend out to dinner on her birthday? Well I have a depressed friend too, and I had this crazy idea that maybe we could double date and cheer both of them up, whaddya say?"

"No!" Greg firmly stated, as the truth came crashing down around him. "I…" He scrambled to cover his sudden change in enthusiasm, "I don't want to go out with a depressed stranger!"

Nick covered the phone. "I was askin' her, not you. I already told you that I wasn't takin' no for an answer." He resumed talking to the babe he had met at Starbucks when he was out buying Greg his favorite coffee concoction as a surprise. "Awesome! I'll make some plans and call you back to let you know what we'll be doin'. My friend Greg can't wait to meet Krista…huh? Oh, yeah, **Tri**sta, right."

Rolling his eyes, Greg sank into the couch cushions and resumed hating life.

"Yeah, I like red." Nick sat back, kicked up his feet on the coffee table, and spoke in his sexiest voice. "Okay now I** really** can't wait to see you, baby. Hell, yeah, I'm a real cowboy'. Texas born and raised. Do ya want me to bring my lasso and show you a few tricks?"

Greg grabbed a couch pillow and squeezed it, wishing it was his own neck. _Stupid, stupid, stupid! _

"No, CSIs don't use handcuffs." Nick glanced over at his buddy and whispered, "They always ask that, don't they?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Okay, sweetheart…I'll call you back soon. Bye." Standing up the matchmaker cheered, "We're in, and you're gonna thank me. I saw her friend, she's hot."

"You said she's **depressed**."

"Yeah, she's depressed** and** hot, but she won't be once she's out with you. Uh…she won't be depressed anymore is what I mean, she'll still be hot."

"Really, I appreciate the thought, but I'm too depressed to date a depressed girl, so please call her back and tell her no offense, but no thank you." Greg jumped to his feet. "I'm showering and then getting back to work on my paper."

"Come on, G!" Nick blocked his friend's retreat. "You can't spend all your free time holed up workin' on some damn DNA paper. You need to get a life, man, you can't just sit around here like a mopey loser and..."

"**I** need to get a life?!" On edge from the events of the last twenty-four hours, Greg didn't hold back, "Getting my paper published** is** an important part of **my life**. It's something that will be permanent. It will help my career and increase my notoriety within the national and international Forensics community. Getting published** has** value. One night stands on the other hand, have **no value **to me, they don't lead to anything meaningful or permanent, they're bullshit and I currently have more than enough bullshit in my life thank you very much. If you want to waste your life jumping from bed to bed with women you have nothing in common with and can't stand to have around except when you're between their thighs, then have at it, cowboy! You won't hear me calling you a loser for wasting your time, but don't call me one either!" Pushing past his housemate, Greg started out of the room. "I'm a loser, ha! You won't even remember your date's name tomorrow, but if my paper gets published, geeks all over this country will remember my name forever!"

"You say that like it's cool!" Nick yelled as he followed his pissed off pal. "My God, you're turning into Grissom!"

"I'd rather be Grissom than Daniel Cleaver! You're Daniel Cleaver!"

"Daniel Cleaver?" Nick followed Greg into his bedroom. "Who the hell is Daniel Cleaver?!"

"He's the thirty-something asshole who screwed around on Bridget Jones, because he was a womanizing idiot."

"Who's Bridget Jones? Is she in Ballistics?"

"Bridget Jones **the movie**! Hugh Grant's character."

"OH! The chick flick, yeah, I took some girl to that."

"Some girl." Greg sneered at the womanizer. "How shocking that you can't remember her name."

"Paula!" _Or was it Carla?_ Recalling some of the film, Nick huffed, "Hey! That Cleaver guy was a jerk! You were calling me a jerk."

"Yeah, well, you said forensics papers aren't cool!"

"They're not!"

"You're just jealous, because you've never even had an idea for one."

"Ooh, I feel like such a failure, Stanford." Hearing himself, Nick burst out laughing, "Jesus H, this is the dumbest fight I've had in decades."

"Yeah, me too." Much to his surprise, Greg's mouth exploded into a smile. "Sorry."

"Me too." Nick reached for his cell. "I'll call and tell Trina we'll get together some other time."

Following a massive eye roll, Greg corrected, "It's **Ni**na and Trista, there's no Trina."

"I know!" Nick belly laughed. "I just wanted to see your reaction when I got it wrong."

"Surrrrre." Greg tossed his shirt into the wicker hamper in the corner of his room. "Okay, you had your laugh, now get out of my bedroom. I need to shower and work on my paper."

"Oh, come on, G!" Nick grabbed his cohort by the shoulder and gave him a shake. "Snap out of this funk! Seriously, don't make me call off the date. Get out of the house and have some fun with me. I really need to get laid, but I feel too bad for you to leave you home alone now. I also feel bad for my couch havin' to put up with your mopey ass for another twenty-four hours." He smirked, "Come on…take one for the team!"

"The Team?" Greg pushed his buddy's hand from his bare shoulder.

"Frog and Toad, man." Nick backed away laughing. "I remember those stories. Toad was always mopin' around the house feelin' sorry for himself, and then Frog would show up, drag him out of bed, and force him on an adventure. They flew kites and went sleigh riding and swimming."

"Yeah, I remember that, but I** don't** remember the one where Frog tried to get Toad laid by a depressed stranger."

"It was a bootleg chapter." Nick pointed to the bathroom and merrily boomed, "Hop in the shower, Toad, we're goin' on an adventure!"

"Okay, okay." Valuing the friendship more than anything, Greg trudged into the bathroom whining, "I'll do it for you, Frog."

"That's the spirit." Nick hustled out of the room. "I'll take care of all the details!"

* * *

**ANs: **

It took 10 chapters to get a little confirmation on Greg, so don't expect (or worry, depending on your perspective) that the story will suddenly be told in light speed. I'm taking my time :-)

If Greg's reaction in this chapter is too much for some readers to continue, I thank you very much for reading to this point and totally understand and respect your decision. If you're unsure and have any questions, feel free to ask.

Thanks so much!

**Maggs**


	11. Chapter 11: Date Night Part 1

**Where You Are  
****Written By:** **Ms Maggs ****/ Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 11: Date Night – Part 1**

"Hey! Where are we going?!" Sara asked in frustration when they turned off the Interstate. Always one to plan everything to a tee, she couldn't handle not knowing. "Come on, just tell me already."

"Don't you want to be surprised?" Gil asked, knowing the suspense was driving her crazy.

"Not in the least, no."

"We're going to Valentine, Arizona. Doesn't that sound romantic, Honey?"

"Aww, it does," she replied through a sunny smile.

"I thought so too, but it's not." Gil laughed as he turned toward the podunk town. "I Googled and found that only twenty seven people live there and there are no hotels, but they do have some nice old buildings to look at. We're going to stay in Kingman, in this very chivalrous sounding motel called The Knight's Inn. When you see it, please remember…it's the romantic thought that counts."

"Right." Sara laughed and watched the scenery roll by. "And most importantly, I doubt we'll see anyone we know in Kingman."

"Exactly." A naughty smirk claimed Gil's mouth. "So we'll be able to get it on in the Jacuzzi without worrying we'll be seen."

"Sex in the Jacuzzi?"

"Hot sex, and not just because the water is hot if you get my drift." Gil snickered, "It's a very old and very unfulfilled fantasy of mine."

"Sex in a public Jacuzzi? With all those germs? Sara shuddered. "Dream on."

* * *

"Hey! What are you wearin' tonight?!" Nick yelled from his room. When he didn't get a reply, he walked across the hall. "G?" 

"I'm in the closet!"

"Can I come in?"

"Don't ask, just pretend you're my mom and invade my privacy!" Standing in his walk-in closet in his boxers, Greg labored over a shirt choice.

Chuckling, Nick entered his housemate's bedroom. "I wanted to know what you were wearin' tonight, because we've never double dated before and..."

"You're worried I'll wear something embarrassing." Greg laughed. "Since you've stated the purpose of this date with a total stranger is to get laid…" he pointed to his Abercrombie boxers, "I thought it would save time if I just showed up in underwear."

"Bright blue Moose boxers on a date?"

"Hell, yeah, the ladies dig 'em! Remember, my mom couldn't keep her hands off them."

"Don't remind me of that squick."

"Seriously, they're super soft, but don't take my word for it, feel for yourself." Laughing at Nick's awkward reaction to the offer, Greg grabbed a navy blue moose pair from the shelf and tossed it as his friend. "My mom sent me a bunch after she got home."

"Wow, they really are soft."

"I've never worn that pair, so you can keep them if you'd like. They're washed though, because I always wash new underwear before wearing them." Greg teased his pal, "Wear them for them for Trina, I mean Nina. I guarantee she'll want to feel them, and Abercrombie and Fitch is a trendy store, so she'll know you're down with the latest fashions."

Addicted to the feel of the sueded cotton, Nick nodded, "I think I will, thanks."

"You better borrow some pants too."

"Huh?" Nick cocked his head. "Why's that?"

"All your pants are too tight to accommodate boxers." He pointed to the form fitting jeans his buddy currently had on. "Case in point, the ones you're wearing. Let's hope Nina doesn't drop her napkin, because if you do the gentlemanly thing and bend over to pick it up," he inserted a 'pants ripping' noise, "it could get embarrassing."

"Shut up, Sanders. There's plenty of room in the seat, so nothin's gonna rip if I bend over." The truth was, he had put on a few pounds and he was feeling a little constrained.

"Is that shirt long enough to untuck and wear over your ripped jeans just in case?"

"They're not tight!" Having his fill of abuse, Nick turned to leave.

"If you say so." Greg's gaze immediately dropped to the strained fabric covering his buddy's rear. _Tight, I knew it. _

Strolling out of the closet, Nick laughed, "I know you're checking out my ass."

Averting his eyes, Greg returned the laugh, "Dream on."

* * *

"I think you're going to love this place," Gil sarcastically said while pulling into the old motel's parking lot. "Don't let the unassuming exterior fool you, I'm sure it's quite luxurious on the inside." 

"Yes, I'm sure it's all part of the owner's marketing strategy to make it look like a flea bag motel."

"Exactly."

"Good thing I brought my own bedding."

"What?" Gil parked the car laughing. "You brought your own bedding?"

"I always do when I travel. Every forensics conference, vacation, anywhere. I read a study on hotel cleanliness and even the nice places don't wash their bed spreads in between guests. Besides that, I don't like sleeping on communal sheets even if they have been washed. The knowledge that people were spilling their DNA all over them at some point in time really grosses me out."

"I love you, Honey." Gil opened the car door chuckling. "You're a very sexy freak."

"Thank you." When she stepped out of the car she pecked his lips. "You're a very sexy freak yourself."

"I guess that explains why we're so compatible." Taking her hand, he brought it to his lips for a kiss. "Our first public display of affection."

"How was it for you, baby?"

"Got a cigarette, Hot Lips?"

"Let's go check in." Laughing, Sara tugged him toward the front door. "Gee, I hope there's not a long line, because a place this spectacular must be get mobbed on the weekends."

"I knew this was going to be fun." Gil happily walked to the registration office swinging their hands and enjoying the PDA.

"Do you think they leave chocolate mints on the bed pillows here?"

"For the patrons or the bugs?"

Sara shook her head. "I should have known."

"What?"

"You really came here for the bugs, not your babe."

Gil stopped in front of the office window for a kiss. "My idea of Nirvana is having my bugs and my babe all under one roof."

"Then I'd say we're in the right place," Sara chuckled as their noses touched.

"Kiss me in public," he urged, "let the world know you're my girl."

"But there's no one around on the street to see." Sara's laughter intensified, "It's like that saying…if a tree falls in the woods, but there's no one there to hear it, does it make noise?"

Gil couldn't believe a woman holding two Physics degrees would say such a silly thing. "Of course it does. The tree's fibers stretch and snap and the tiny explosions of each fiber then…"

"Shut up and kiss me, geek!"

Inside the office, the hotels geriatric owners were watching the amorous couple smooch on the sidewalk.

"Looks like someone needs a room!" Ed wheezed, "Too bad they'll only be here an hour, maybe a half considerin' the fella's age."

"Hopefully he brought some of that Viagra I keep tellin' you to ask Dr. Mason about," Marge grinned.

"Good thing the Honeymoon Suite is available." He grabbed his cane and limped over to the wall of keys. "They look like the type to appreciate a Jacuzzi tub."

"Is it workin' again?" Marge asked, "I thought you said a rat got sucked into the main jet and died."

"It did, but when the sucker decomposed and broke into pieces, I was able to get it workin' again."

"You're so handy." The sex starved wife puckered up. "Kiss me."

"It's not Saturday night," Ed huffed. "You can wait." He walked over and tapped the glass to get the couple's attention. "There are decency laws in this town! Get a room!" He waved the key. "Honeymoon suite's ready and waiting!"

"Leave them alone!"

"Shut up! I need the money for a new recliner." Ed moved to the cash register. "And public displays of affection are nasty."

"Stop!" Marge watched the nice man take hold of his lover's hand. "I think they're sweet."

* * *

"I think you're going to love this place," Nick remarked as he led Greg through Treasure Island to Kahunaville, a party bar known for its lively atmosphere, creative food and flair bartenders. "I always order the NY Strip here, but I know you're a fish guy and I picked this place because the last date I took here had the Ahi, it's made with wasabi just the way you like it." 

"Cool, thanks for thinking of me." Anxious about the set up, Greg nervously adjusted his clothes. "I'm not sure I'm up to eating though."

"Relax, G, these are fun women, and since they're in their early thirties, they'll be on the desperate side and easier to please than the twenty-somethings in this town still believin' they'll be swept off their feet by a Vegas millionaire."

"I haven't done this in a while."

"How long exactly?"

"A year, maybe a little longer."

Nick froze in his tracks. "You haven't been with a woman in over a year?"

"By 'been with a woman' do you mean out on a date or sex? It's been a little over a year since I had a date, but it didn't go well, so..."

"Jeez." Lowering his voice to a whisper, Nick asked, "Then how long has it been since you've…"

"I'm not you, okay?! While I've made a few exceptions over the years, I don't believe in casual sex, so unless I'm in a relationship…"

"Dude! When was the last time you were in a relationship, because you've never talked seriously about anyone as far as I can recall?"

"Can we just get to the bar?" Greg huffed, not wanting to discuss his lack of a sex life in a high traffic zone.

"Are we talkin' years?" Nick blurted, unable to comprehend the concept of sustained abstinence.

"For actual sex with a woman, yes, years, but there are other ways to experience pleasure with people. Can we stop talking about it and not keep the ladies waiting? Please?"

"We're twenty minutes early, come with me." Nick grabbed his uptight buddy by the elbow and yanked him into the casino and over to the nearest bar.

"What are we…"

"A little tequila will help chill you out." Flagging the bartender, Nick ordered, "Two double shots of Cabo Wabo Reposado, thanks."

"You got it." Gary, the bartender, slapped two glasses in front of the men.

"Shots, great." Greg took a seat at the bar. "I don't date like you, and you should know that I don't drink like you either."

"Yeah, I figured as much."

"Just what the doctor ordered, two double shots of Cabo Wabo Reposado," Gary playfully announced after he finished pouring with flair. "Texas, right?"

"Dallas, yeah." Nick took a seat. "How'd ya know?"

"Tending bar in a tourist city I've gotten good recognizing accents. My name's Gary by the way." The bartender extended a hand.

While shaking hands, the Texan replied, "Nice to meet you. I'm Nick and this is Greg."

"Nice to meet you both." Leaning in, Gary whispered to the cowboy, "I'll start a tab, and the next round I'll charge you single price for doubles."

"Cool," Nick flashed friendly smile. "I'll tip you the difference."

"Thanks, Tex." Gary's heart soared. "Call me when you're ready." _Call me __**any **__time._

"Okay."

Greg sat gaping at his buddy. _Look at you. You really have __**no idea**__ you're getting hit on or putting out vibes. _

Grabbing one of the glasses, Nick handed it over to his fretting double date partner. "Figurin' you were a lightweight, I ordered Sammy Hagar's finest, it's real smooth goin' down." Tapping his glass to Greg's, he toasted, "Here's to poppin' your regrown cherry tonight."

"Seriously, don't be surprised when I abstain from bedding Depressed Birthday Girl, because I'm saving my regrown cherry for someone special, however long it takes to find them." After downing the double, Greg gulped for air and said, "Mmm, that is good stuff, thanks for the drink, cowboy."

"You hate this western shirt I'm wearin', don't you? I caught you sneerin' at it, admit it."

"Yeah, but you wear it well." Returning his buddy's grin, Greg teased, "I'm sure Trina, uh Nina will love it on you."

"And I'm sure Krista, uh Trista will love your…hmm, give me sec, I'll think of something."

"Yeah, a little more insecurity about my geek self is just what I need before a blind date, thanks."

"Aww." Nick patted his insecure housemate's shoulder. "I'm just kiddin'. Come on…what's not to love about you, Toad? You look great in those designer duds your mommy Garanimaled for you."

"Ha! She did write a note saying this shirt would work well with these jeans."

"And you're havin' a great hair night…for you." Nick tousled the mop that his friend called 'the in style'.

Laughing as he batted his buddy's hand away, Greg said, "You know you're growing in your hair again just so you can copy it."

After walking to the opposite end of the bar, Gary nudged his co-worker, Ben. "Check out the cowboy who sat in my section."

"Ooh, nice, just your type."

"What do you think my chances are? I mean he was flirty, but look…he's clearly with the other guy, right?"

Ben, an expert in bar body language, stopped cutting limes to study the couple. "His eyes are lit, his smile is bright, he keeps touching his date and he's totally leaning into the conversation. Sorry, Gar…in my expert opinion, he's head over heels. He probably was just being polite."

"Yeah, that's what I was afraid of." Gary sighed, "Why are all the good ones taken?"

"I know you're shy, so I'll slip the other one my number, and if he takes it, we'll know for sure."

Nick waved to the bartender, who was chatting with a co-worker. "We're ready for number two, thanks!" Then he turned to Greg. "Hey…when in doubt tonight, just flash that goofy grin of yours and gaze into her eyes, because your smile and eyes are your best assets."

The tequila surging though his veins, Greg finally started to relax. "You really think my eyes and smile are my best features?"

"And your brain, yeah." After shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Nick abruptly stood. "Hey, I need to hit the men's room, be right back."

"You feelin' okay?"

So no one else would hear, Nick whispered in Greg's ear, "I'm not used to wearin' boxers with jeans, the damn things are bunchin' up."

Tense from the feeling of his buddy's hot breath on his ear, Greg didn't reply.

"Be right back."

"Round two, coming up!" Gary grabbed the Cabo Wabo bottle, disappointed the cowboy was walking off.

Capitalizing on the opportunity presented, Ben pushed his coworker aside. "Hi, I'm Ben, the other, much hotter bartender." From his shirt pocket, he pulled out a napkin with his phone number on it. "Just in case cowboy isn't your pardner and you're free to roam the range."

"Thanks, for the offer, Bartender Ben."

"I'm sure the cowboy never let's you in saddle, but I will. My shift ends at two. How about we…"

"Sorry." As the guy moved in, Greg slid the napkin back and smoothly informed him, "Tex keeps me on a tight lasso and he has a wicked jealous streak, so I'll have to ask you to mosey along."

Upon hearing that the cowboy was taken** and** the possessive type, Gary downed a tequila shot to console himself.

Tucking the napkin back in his pocket, Ben shook off the rejection like a diva. "Your loss, **baby!**"

Watching the bartender sashay back down the bar, Greg laughed along with Gary, who had witnessed the whole thing. "I guess we're paying for those doubles now, huh?"

"Are you kidding? It was so much fun watching that queen get rejected **for once**, you made my night." Gary poured the shots and winked, "Drinks are on the house."

"Cool."

"Hey, how long have you and Tex been together?"

"Years," Greg kept up the ruse.

"I moved here a year ago and I haven't found anyone. Where'd you meet?"

"Work."

"Yeah, the guys I meet on the job aren't interested in getting serious. Do you live together?"

"It took a while to get to that point, but yeah…for about a month now."

"God, I hate living alone," Gary lamented. "It's better than when I lived with my parents back home, but it sucks. What's it like to wake up in his arms?"

"What do you think?"

Gary laughed, "Yeah, stupid question."

"Is this your only job, or is it a part time gig?"

"This is it while I finish up my bachelor's at UNLV. I'm twenty-five, but on the ten year plan. I can only afford two classes a semester."

"Yeah, see, that's the problem, when you tend bar, you meet guys who are only interested in sex."

"I know, I know. I've had guys laugh in my face when I said that sex isn't the most important thing I'm looking for, that I want companionship, someone to watch TV with and talk over dinner." The lonely guy shrugged. "Deep down I guess I'm just a small town guy with small town needs."

"Hang in and don't compromise. Mr. Right's out there somewhere." When he saw Nick returning, Greg motioned for the bartender to move closer. "When Tex gets back, you have to pretend that you don't know. I mean like not a clue, because he's still…"

"No sweat, I just came out when I moved here from South Dakota, so I know the drill."

"Thanks."

When Nick plopped onto the bar stool, Greg handed him a shot glass. "I paid our tab, cowboy." When Gary walked away laughing, he cracked a huge grin. "Here's to a fun night together."

Relieved that his date partner was finally getting his nerve up, Nick returned the toast through a smile, "To a fun night together." He clinked his glass to his buddy's and downed the shot. "Okay, ready to go meet the ladies?"

"Honestly, I'd prefer to forget the ladies and just keep drinking together," Greg suggested with a hopeful lilt, relatively certain that the true meaning of his words would fly right over his buddy's head. "We could have a fun night on the town, just you and me."

"Stop worryin' already." Nick stood and slipped his hand around his anxious pal's elbow, tugging him off the bar stool. "Come on. Just relax and be yourself, it'll be fine."

The bartenders stood next to each other, both watching the loving couple through green eyes.

"He's so possessive," Gary sighed, wishing he was the one the Texan was yanking from a bar stool.

"I hate happy people," Ben droned, "and public displays of affection are **so** gay."

Shaking his head, Gary disagreed with his bitter co-worker. "I think they're sweet."

* * *

"Over there!" Sara jumped on the bed that she had just made with her own linens. "Kill it!" 

"Are you kidding?" Gil gaped at his hysterical girlfriend. "Did you see how fast that roach ran?" He hurried to grab a glass from the bathroom. "They're having races at the Forensics conference I'm taking Greg to in Long Beach this month. This guy will win us the gold for sure!"

"You're **capturing **it?"

"You say that like it's odd?"

"It **is **odd!"

"For normal people, yes, but not for me." Gil eyed the prize roach and carefully scooped it up with the glass. "Yessssssss!"

"You're using your **hand **to cover the top?" Sara winced, deciding there would be no digit action until her man scalded his fingers in the sink she had just bleached.

"I promise to scald my hand before touching you, Honey."

"You know me so well."

After kissing her cheek, Gil said, "I just need to run out to the car and transfer him to the portable roach house I have in the trunk."

"Sure, go ahead." She sat on the bed shaking her head.

Two minutes later, Gil returned holding his prize in a small mesh cage. "I'll bring home a doggie bag from dinner and feed him."

"The leftovers of our romantic dinner will be going to your pet roach?" Sara laughed, "I guess I should be happy you're bringing me out while the other woman in your life has to stay behind."

"Thanks for understanding me, Honey."

"Just so you know…my line in the sand is you bringing that thing into bed for a threesome."

"Thanks for telling me," he chuckled.

Watching him place the roach cage on his nightstand, Sara sighed, "Well…that really sets the tone for the evening, doesn't it?"

* * *

"Over there!" Nick shouted over the loud music playing in the bar. "Krista, uh Trista is the blond." 

"She looks like a stripper!" Greg proclaimed when he saw the woman had big hair, buxom breasts and glittery skin. "You set me up with a stripper? I know I've talked and joked about strippers a lot, but that was all talk. I really can't see me dating a stripper, can you?"

"They're not strippers, they're flashy because they used to be tradeshow models, but you know…they don't let you do that in this town once you hit thirty. Now they're perfume spritzers at Nordstroms during the day, and they cocktail a few nights a week to make rent. They're roommates by the way."

"Perfume spritzers?" Greg burst out laughing, feeling the full effects of four shots of tequila.

"You know, the chicks who hit you up when you walk into the department store to try the perfume and cologne?"

"I know what a perfume spritzer is, dude. Not to sound like an intellectual snob, but what's a geek like me going to have in common with one?"

"I'm sure they have good noses, you can talk about Trace work." His laughter fueled by Cabo Wabo, Nick shoved his reluctant friend toward the bar. "Just follow my lead."

"Okay!" Greg walked behind his buddy and cracked up when he caught himself checking out Nick's ass. "Tight pants," he coughed into his fist.

"Wouldya stop checking out my damn ass, G!"

"I'll try, but I'm not making any promises!" Greg covered his mouth. _Oh! No more tequila for me! If I keep boozing, I'll end up saying something really stupid. _

"Howdy, ladies!" Nick greeted the babes in his thickest drawl. "Nice to see y'all again." He kissed their cheeks before presenting the fourth member of their party. "Trista and Nina, I'd like to introduce my co-worker and housemate, Greg Sanders."

"Hi, nice to meet you." Greg smiled and waved.

"Thank **Gawd** he's cute!" Nina declared while giving her best friend a shove. "See! You were worried he'd be gross. He's not gross, he's cute!" She turned to her date. "I told her a hot guy like you wouldn't have a big fat ugly nasty roomie with long nose hair and BO."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Trista scooted off her bar stool and kissed her date's cheek. "Nice to meet you, Greg. Thanks for coming out tonight for my birthday."

Having downed four generous shots of tequila on an empty stomach, Greg giggled his reply, "Coming out tonight. Are you kidding? I jumped at the offer." He kissed her cheek in return. "Wow…you're very sparkly and…pretty, very, very pretty. Happy Birthday. How old are you today?"

"Greg!" Nick rolled his eyes at the stupidity rolling from his tipsy friend's mouth. "Didn't your mommy teach you that it's impolite to ask a lady how old she is?!"

"Awww, it's okay." Trista cuddled up to the guy she already knew she'd be sleeping with later. "I'll forgive you, because you have the sweetest smile and the most beautiful big brown eyes. You're pretty happy for a depressed guy too."

"Thank you." Greg put his arm around his date. "And you're very upbeat for a depressed girl."

Nina whispered in Nick's ear, "They're like cutely dysfunctional together, aren't they? I'm glad they're hitting it off."

"Me too," Nick intently watched his buddy snuggling up to the girl. "Hey, our table's ready in the restaurant. We checked before comin' to get you in the bar. Shall we?"

"Yes!" Clutching her future fiancé's hand, Trista led the way. "They have these jumbo margaritas for two here. They serve them in big schooners. Do you like tequila, Greg?"

"No." Swinging his date's hand as they merrily strolled toward the restaurant, Greg declared "I lovvvvvve tequila!"

"Oh boy," Nick took Nina's hand. "My buddy…he doesn't drink all that much usually."

"That's okay, Trista's a lush, so she'll feel right at home with a drunk," Nina giggled. "We drank before we got here too. No worries, we can just take a taxi to our place later. I have birthday cake ready and waiting." Pausing to kiss her date, she winked, "First we'll have cake, and then we'll have dessert…in my bedroom."

Nick winked at the babe. "If you insist." After the woman who he had spent ten minutes with collectively shoved her tongue in his mouth and kissed him like her life depended on it, he broke into a satisfied smile. "Well…that really sets the tone for the evening, doesn't it?"

* * *

**ANs: **

- When I first wrote Sara as a germphobe in my other series, I got flamed by someone, but to me it's always been canon since she's brought up her phobia in many episodes. The roach part is an homage to Grissom in Ellie, when he excitedly talks about his racing cockroaches. Him being a geek over bug races is canon too LOL

- Thanks for your feedback, Fic Recs on Y, and questions on the last chapter. I really appreciate the comments and the questions always help me improve clarity and tell a better story, so thanks for asking them. I've replied to everyone and any thoughts you'd like to share on the chapter, I'd love to hear them.

**FYI - Garanimals** for those unfamiliar with American kids clothing (KJT said they're not in the UK), was a brand that started in the 70s and was famous for having animal tags. If you were challenged when it came to matching up a shirt and pants, you simply looked for a Tiger tagged shirt and bought a Tiger tagged pair of pants, an elephant shirt matched elephant tagged pants, etc…

**Thanks for reading!  
****Maggs **


	12. Chapter 12: Date Night Part 2

**Where You Are  
****Written By:** **Ms Maggs ****/ Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 12: Date Night – Part 2**

"Mmm, this is really good," Trista moaned after swallowing her third bite of Calypso Calamari. "Don't you guys think that the banana-pepper puree is todie for?!" She snatched another piece from the platter in the middle of the table. "Open up, Greggy." She dangled the treat in front of him. "Trista's gonna feeeeed you."

Humoring the vapid lush who was driving him insane with her third person speak and wandering hands, he did as directed. "Mmm, Greggy like," he mimicked Trista's irritating habit and when he saw Nick laugh into his hand, he knew the cowboy got the joke.

"You guys!" Nina gave her date a shove. "You keep laughing with each other, let us in on the jokes."

"Sorry, Darlin'," Nick apologized, "we don't mean to be rude, we just know each other so well that we can communicate without talkin' and sometimes we forget we're doin' it."

"Awww." Nina pushed out a smile. "You're like Trista and me." She reached across the table and squeezed her roomie's hand. "BFFs, best friends forever. I swear, it's like we share the same brain."

"Exactly," Nick confirmed while wondering if they alternated days and accidentally forgot the shared brain at home.

"So tell me," Trista forged on trying to bond with her shy date, "what was it like to get beaten to a pulp and kill a thug to save your ass, Greggy?"

Stunned by the tacky and rhetorical question, Greg anxiously shifted in the booth. "Uh…pretty much how you would imagine it to be, incredibly terrifying, horrifically painful, and not really something I like to think about or discuss, especially when I'm out trying to have fun." He looked directly across the table at his buddy and robotically announced, "Speaking of fun…wow…how fun is this date? How happy am I that you found these two, Tex?" _Not happy at all would be the correct answer, __**pa**__**l!** _"Good thing time is standing still so we can savor all this fun we're having."

"Trista was just thinking the **same** thing!" the birthday girl squealed before kissing her date's cheek. "We're only on appetizers, that means there's still **so much** ahead to enjoy!" She let her hand roam her date's thigh and when she moved to his crotch, she giggled, "So much indeed."

"Let's not go there." _Ever!_ Greg moved the slut's hand and continued to feign enthusiasm while wishing both women would spontaneously combust from a chemical reaction caused by wearing stinky perfume, too much body glitter and tons of hairspray. "So, um, do you ladies enjoy being Perfume Spritzers or is that a temporary gig while you wait for something else to materialize?"

After sipping from the bowl full of margarita in front of her, Trista replied, "We never finished high school and some close-minded people seem to have a problem hiring us because we only have GEDs."

"Yeah," Nina droned, "as if you learn more from books than life experiences." She rolled her eyes. "Personally, I think reading books about stuff is no where near as good as doing the stuff first hand. I mean, you can **read **a million books about sex, but everyone knows that you're really not good at it until you've done it a lot. I mean, I started reading books about sex when I was thirteen, but I wasn't good at it until I was sixteen and had a ton of experience under my belt. You know?"

"No, actually, I don't," Greg replied in shock. "A **ton** of experience at **sixteen**?" When he felt Nick kick him under the table, he laughed off his shock, "So you were a late bloomer, huh?"

"She was, but Trista wasn't." The girl who lost her virginity at twelve assured her man, "Trista was highly skilled by fifteen and she can't wait to show you some of her expert moves and her collection of very special toys."

While Nina rambled on about her love of trees for a reason he couldn't be bothered to figure out, Nick winked at his buddy, mouthed the word 'cherry' and made a popping noise.

"No way, Tex," Greg mouthed in reply. "Not happening."

"Mmmm….I know just what I want for my birthday," Trista slurred in her date's ear, "a Greggy wearing a bow…**only **a bow."

"But I might catch cold," Greg joked while peeling his date's hand off his crotch for the third time. "I really should stop drinking," he remarked before taking a huge sip from the margarita bowl_. But it's the only way to ease the pain of this excruciating date! _

When Nina finally finished droning on about the evils of the written word, she shook her date's arm and asked, "What do you like better, trees or books?"

"Uh…why do I have to choose?" Nick asked in confusion, while thinking of the six IKEA quadruple-shelved book units in his housemate's bedroom and replied, "We have a few books at home." He tried to stifle the alcohol induced laugh dying to get out. "Mostly picture books though, and lots of Frog and Toad."

Greg kicked his buddy under the table before bursting into another round of tequila giggles.

"You guys have to have diplomas to work at LVPD, right?" Trista asked when the two men finally stopped laughing.

"Yeah," Greg confirmed. "Too bad you don't have yours, because with your heightened sense of smell from working as a spritzer, you'd be great addition to our Trace Department." He dove for another gulp of alcohol.

"The Trace Department?" Trista shook her head. "Nah, I don't think so. I really suck at drawing."

Greg spit his sip of margarita back into the bowl as laughter seized him yet again.

Nick wiped his watering eyes. _Drawing! Ha!_

Greg apologized to his date, "Sorry, I spit a mouthful of marg back in the bowl, I'll order us a fresh one."

"Trista doesn't care! It's not like we won't be swapping a ton of spit later, right?" She winked. "Not to mention a few other fluids."

"Is your pager going off, buddy?" Greg nervously asked while watching his date savor his backwash. _Because that's the last DNA sample she's getting from me tonight. _

Nick shot his housemate a glare. "No, it's not, and yours isn't either, pal." _I thought I covered this? The pager doesn't go off until after the sex._

"Hey, Tris, let's hit the little girls room." Nina stood and shimmied her tight skirt down to mid-thigh. "We'll be right back, boys!"

"Take your time, ladies," Greg waved. _Seriously, take __**all **__night if you want! Take a left at the bar and keep on walking for all I care!_

"I know what you're gonna say," Nick informed his glaring buddy once they were alone. "They're not exactly ideal matches, but…"

"**You think?!**" Greg threw a crumpled napkin and blurted his unfiltered thoughts, "Why the hell are we sitting here suffering and spending our hard-earned cash when the only fun we're having is with each other?! We could be having that at home for free! Or we could be out having a…"

"Because I need to get laaaaaid," Nick explained in between laughs.

"Five minutes with my hand is **far **more pleasurable than enduring these two for hours in exchange for fifteen germ-filled minutes in the sack, and I wouldn't be out a hundred bucks! Seriously, are you **that **bad at using your imagination and whacking off?

"I don't know, man…" Nick gasped for air, "I read lots of books about whacking off, but maybe I just need a lot more first **hand** life experience before I get it right!"

Greg fell over in the booth in stitches, and when he saw Nick crash down on the other cushion, he asked, "Do you come here often?"

"Are they **that **bad?"

"Uh, your date said books are a waste of pretty trees, what does that tell you?"

"Is **that** where the tree talk came from? I wondered."

Laughing harder, Greg said, "Do you use lotion when you spank the monkey? Because that really enhances the experience and maybe if you stepped up your handball game, you'd realize that chicks like Nina aren't all that imperative to your social life."

"I'm not frickin' twelve," Nick replied, feeling the full effects of the tequila he had rapidly consumed, "of course I use lotion…except when I'm in the shower, then I use soap."

"Really? Conditioner is **much** better, especially the mint kind I use."

"I can't believe we're comparing handball tips." Staring at his BFF on the other side of the table, Nick's smile grew. "You're right, I'm havin' a much better time with you."

"How could you not?" Greg replied in exasperation. "You're intentionally dating women you have nothing in common with, you do realize that, right? I mean, you always ran through women, but you used to be a romantic and pick ones you could bond with at least for a weekend before never calling them again. I think…" Realizing he was too drunk and the timing was bad, he fell silent.

"What were you gonna say, G?"

"Ahem! I hate to interrupt your meeting," the server crouched down to speak with her patrons. "But your food is here."

"Ooh, steak." Nick bolted back up in his seat. "Try your tuna, Greggo. I know you're gonna love it."

Greg sat up and grabbed his fork, happy to eat the entrée his BFF had specifically brought him there to try. "Mmm, you're right. I love this."

"See…Frog knows what Toad likes," Nick joked in third amphibian, hoping the ladies would take their time in the restroom.

Slicing a second piece of Ahi, Greg returned his buddy's smile, "Yeah, and Toad knows that he's **never **letting Frog set him up on a date again, and the second Trista tries to kiss Toad and make him her Prince, he's hopping into a cab."

_**Meanwhile in the bathroom…**_

Expertly spritzing her hair, Nina grumbled, "I don't know, Tris, those two seem to be **way **more into each other than us."

"I don't think so," the birthday girl replied while teetering on her spike heels.

"Because you're too wasted and desperate to notice, Honey. They keep laughing at inside jokes, and winking at each other, and they're playing footsie under the table." Nina lowered her voice to a whisper, "I think this might be a beard date."

"But they don't have beards," Trista slurred.

"No, **we** are the beards."

The horrified woman rushed to check her upper lip in the mirror. "But I just waxed!"

"No, **beard**, as in a woman used to prop a gay guy's fake straight status. They take us out so it looks like they're hetero and they have sex with us just so they can say they sleep with girls."

"Wait…does that like make us lesbians? Because you said us doing each other when we don't have dates makes us Bi, not lesbians, and I was cool with that, but I really don't want to be a lesbian, because I look terrible with short hair."

"No, it doesn't make us lesbians, sweetie."

"Whew." Trista dabbed her chest with a fresh coat of body glitter and asked, "So what are we going to do? Ask them?"

"Nah, it will be much more fun to take them back to our place and try to figure it out on the sly. We'll play Dare or Bare, that should do the trick."

"But we'll still get to sleep with them, right? If I don't see man-action on my b-day, I'll cry. I mean it's like bad enough that my boyfriend of **two weeks** dumped me yesterday because he didn't want to buy me dinner and a gift, y'know? Not having a one night stand would really be the nail on my coffin of self-esteem."

"Aww, don't worry, Sweetie, I won't out them until after we get our kicks." Nina gave her sad friend a hug. "I promise."

* * *

"Mmm, this is really good," Sara smacked her lips, savoring the boysenberry syrup that she had loved since childhood. 

"I was surprised enough you picked IHOP, but…pancakes for dinner?" Gil curiously asked, "Is there a something special about IHOP pancakes?"

Dabbing her sticky lips with a napkin, she confirmed her intuitive man's suspicions, "Yes."

"I didn't mean to pry," Gil said when his significant other fell silent, "I was just trying to get to know my date a little better."

"It's okay, she wants you to get to know her better." Sara grabbed the boysenberry syrup container and coated her next pancake. "I was in three foster homes until I became an emancipated minor at sixteen. The first home was a transition home, a place where they put younger kids who need a lot of TLC. My foster mother was this sweet, older woman who we all called Mama Lucy. She had room for four kids and took care of us all like we were her own. It was great, but kids only got to stay with her about a year. The goal was for her to help us get through the drama and prepare us for placement in a long-term spot. When you arrived at Mama Lucy's you got a church outfit, because every Sunday she took her kids to her fire and brimstone church and afterwards, we were treated to breakfast at IHOP." She lifted her fork. "I ordered pancakes with boysenberry syrup every time."

Realizing how hard it was for Sara to talk about her childhood, Gil reached across the table and squeezed her free hand. "Thank you for sharing that story."

"Your turn," she directed, hoping to shift attention away from her.

"After my father died," Gil began, "my mother and I started a similar tradition. We'd go to mass at St. Ann's Catholic Church and then walk down the block to this little bakery called The Cake Box. I was allowed to pick anything I wanted. Unlike you, I varied my choice week to week…a bear claw, a glazed donut, a cherry cheese Danish. My mother always got an apple turnover. It was my job to carry the little white box tied with red string. We'd walk home, she'd make tea, and we'd discuss Father Aloysius's sermon as we enjoyed our pastries. We kept up the tradition until I left home."

"Thank you for sharing that story," Sara sat back in the booth, smiling wide.

"What?"

"This really is a date," she chuckled.

"But is it a good date?" Gil returned her laugh. "Are we hitting it off? Or are you wishing your pager would go off so you'd have an excuse to run out the door?"

Sara replied by reaching into her purse, producing her pager, and shutting it off. "What does that tell you?"

"I think I just might get a kiss at the door," he joked while slicing into his Old Fashioned Pot Roast.

"If things keep going the way they are, you'll be getting a little more than a kiss."

"Really?" Gil played along with the ruse. "There is a Jacuzzi tub in our room. Will I get my Jacuzzi fantasy?"

"Will you sanitize it and check the water's chemical levels first?"

Gil winked. "I promise."

* * *

"Home sweet home!" Nina announced upon throwing open the door to the apartment she shared with her BFF. "First things first…music!" When My Humps happened to be on the radio, she knew it was her lucky night. "My hump, my hump, my lovely lady lumps…" 

"Check it out!" Trista pointed to the two bedrooms. "Right through those doors is where the magic happens, boys."

Greg drunkenly grabbed Nick and whispered, "For their first trick, I hope they make themselves disappear."

"You are frickin' wasted, G." Nick held up his buddy while the girls scrambled to serve drinks and cake. "Are you gonna be able to get it up?"

"Get it up? Are you kidding?" Greg slurred, "My germphobic pecker entered the witness protection program when Trista said she was voted 'Miss BJ' five years in a row during the annual Spring Break contest in Cabo, until some chick with a wicked overbite beat her record of ten guys in ten minutes without spilling a drop."

"Who wants to do shots?!" Nina yelled from the fridge. "I'll let you lick the salt off my boobies, Nicky!"

"Take me all the way to Cabo, baby!" As he broke into Sammy Hagar's Mas Tequila, Nick danced into the kitchen, "Take your vitamin 'T' with a salt n' lemon slice."

"Ooh! Trista would **love **to go to Cabo with you, Greggy!"

"Sorry, I can't leave the country, because…uh…because…" Too drunk to think of a good reason, he simply said, "I'm afraid of borders."

Noticing her man was intently watching the action across the room as Nick swirled his tongue over her friend's chest, Trista sweetly said, "Aww, look…someone's jealous."

"Is it really that obvious?" Greg sighed, while bringing his hands to his spinning head.

"Totally!" Trista dashed off to change clothes and grab a much needed supply.

"Yeah, it took like sixty seconds for my mom to catch on when she visited." The tequila continued talking, "Sometimes the attraction feels like the most natural thing in the world. Seriously, there are moments when it feels **perfect **and I look at him and think he's dying for me to say or do something to let him know it's okay, that I feel it and want it too, that in some strange way, even though we didn't do it on purpose, this thing has been building between us since the day we met." Shaking his head, he confessed, "But sometimes the idea scares the crap out of me. I don't mean the physical, I've been with a couple of guys, not all the way, but enough to know that I can be perfectly happy on either side of the fence. For me it's always about the person and the feelings between us, not their gender, and right now, for a while actually, Nick is the only person I want to be with. That's why I'm scared…I don't want **one move** to end our friendship forever, because I know without a doubt, he's the best friend I'll ever have." Watching his buddy kiss and grope Nina, his tequila-voice cracked, "But then I see him like this and it's abundantly clear why my mother's not sleeping well since her visit. I'm obviously completely insane for thinking he wants something more." He forced himself to watch, hoping the image of Nick Frenching Nina would cure him. "My mom's right, this is Jeff all over again. That's why she's back in Santa Gabriel waiting for me to show up on her doorstep with another busted nose and broken heart."

"I'm back!" Trista, now wearing lingerie, jumped in front of her date waving a salt shaker. "Did you miss me?"

"You weren't here?" Greg asked when he snapped out of his tequila fog. _Thank God you weren't here! _"You weren't here!" _What the hell was I thinking saying that stuff out loud?!_

"But I'm here now, baby!" Ripping off her top, Trista growled, "And my girls are your girls! Lick away!"

Greg jumped back when his date's breasts smacked him in the face. "What the…" Tripping over a stiletto on the floor, he crashed onto the red love seat. "Where did those come from?!"

"Dr. Simpson," Trista proudly replied while squeezing her C+ boobs. "I think they were worth every penny. Have a feel, tell me what you think."

"Um…" His scientific curiosity getting the best of him, Greg placed a hand on each silicone sphere and gave them a squeeze. "They're um…perfectly symmetrical."

"They taste good too," Trista announced in her best soft-core voice. "Have a nibble."

"No, thanks," Greg patted his belly, "I'm still really full from dinner."

"Huh?"

"Game time!" Nina clapped her hands. "We have this great date game called 'Dare or Bare'." She hustled over with the box. "It's boys against girls, so sit next to your roomie on the love seat, Nick."

"Yay!" Trista clapped her hands and took a seat next to Nina on the couch. "Shirts off boys, so we start out even."

Nick handed Greg the bottle of Cuervo he swiped from the kitchen counter, tossed his shirt, and plopped onto the small leather couch.

His mind still reeling, Greg reluctantly tossed his Abercrombie pullover, sat next to his topless housemate, and forced himself to get in the game.

"Here we go!" Nina rolled the dice. "We move up the pink side, you move up the blue side." She advanced six spaces on the board and read the words in the circle. "Dare - Pick a girl and pucker up. Bare – All girls take off your shirts. Well, since my shirt's off, I guess I have to kiss ya, Tris."

"Yay!" Trista readied for her smooch. "I love this game!"

"Whoa," Nick's eyes widened to saucers. "You two look mighty comfortable doin' that."

"Yeah." Giggling, Trista wiped her mouth. "We're each other's Saturday night fall back plan. You know…screw buddies."

"Uh…" Nick cleared his throat and took the die Nina was handing him. "Okay." He tossed the dotted blue and pink square. "Four." He moved to the appropriate circle and read, "Dare – Pick a boy and dance the tango. Bare – All boys take off your pants. I'm not dancin', so…" He stood and tugged Greg to his feet. "Take your pants off, G."

"I really don't think that's a good idea," Greg protested. "We're wearing…"

"I'm sure as hell not dancin' with ya, so strip!" After kicking off his shoes, Nick tugged open his belt and shoved his jeans to the floor. "What's the big deal, they were comin' off soon anyway." When the ladies pointed and burst out laughing, he said, "What's so funny, girls?"

"Dude…" Greg reminded him, "We're wearing matching moose boxers."

"Is that like a gay thing?" Trista blurted, remembering her friend's suspicions. "Because Nina and I were talking in the bathroom earlier, and we think you two might be…"

"No!" Nick loudly protested. "Me? Gay? As if! I'm not…we're just…it's not." Panic consuming him, he grabbed Nina's hand. "Talk's overrated, so how about we head to the bedroom so I can prove it to you the old fashioned way?"

"Yee haw!" Nina jumped on her date's back. "Giddy up, cowboy! I'm ready for a wild ride!"

"Let's feel those spurs, sweetheart." Nick couldn't get to the bedroom door fast enough.

Before he knew what happened, Greg was alone in the spinning room with Trista, who was performing a strange tribal dance in front of him. "What are you doing?"

"I'm stripping for you."

"Stripping? But you were down to a thong when you started." Greg stood and returned his pants to his hips.

"What are you doing?"

"Unlike Nick, I have nothing to prove."

"What's that supposed to mean?!" she huffed.

"Sorry, it's not you, I just have a policy," Greg sweetly explained, "I don't have casual sex with strangers."

"I don't either," she protested, "but we've known each other for like three hours, Greggy."

"I'm sorry, but..."

"Please!" She grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the bedroom. "I'll do anything you want."

"Anything?" he anxiously asked as Nick's words and grunts shot through the paper-thin wall in front of him. "Uh…"

"Whatever it takes to keep you here, because I don't want to be alone on my birthday."

Greg took the desperate woman in his arms. "Happy Birthday, Trista." After a tender kiss to her cheek, he said, "I'm sorry, but I'm not going to take advantage of you." He grabbed his shirt. "Good night."

"Get out of my face, jerk!" she screamed. "I don't need to sleep with you. I was just feeling sorry for you. I'm so much better than a one night stand with you! I'll go have a threesome with Nick and Nina!" As she marched for the bedroom, she yelled, "Get out of my house, you big loser!"

"Going!" The word 'loser' echoing in his head, Greg couldn't get to the front door fast enough.

* * *

**ANs:**

Hopefully that chapter was a good blend of drama and laughs while providing a little backstory and some needed clarity. If not, that's what I was going for LOL

A few people have asked me for some proof of N/G because they can't PICTURE it. I've referred them to the CBS Wiki site for CSI. Under the 'relationships' category there is a Nick and Greg page with a great photo spread. Links aren't allowed here, so I can't put one.

Thanks to KJT for editing and to everyone who sent feedback, I've replied!

**Thanks for reading,  
****Maggs **


	13. Chapter 13: Head Over Heels

**Where You Are  
****Written By:** **Ms Maggs ****/ Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 13: Head over Heels**

"This wine bar was a great find," Sara told her date, who had just ordered a third bottle. "Who knew they'd have such a trendy place in Kingman?"

"I do believe I'm the oldest person in here by a decade." Glancing around Gil joked, "Am I really losing perspective, or did the blondes at the bar have to use fake ID to get in here? They look sixteen."

"Why are you checking out the blondes at the bar?" Sara joked, before changing the subject. "I haven't been to one of these places with a guy in ages."

"Who took you the last time?" Gil queried, certain he knew the answer.

"A lying skank named Hank, who took me to a dump in Pahrump."

"Dating history in rhyme form." Gil raised his glass. "It's awkward as expected, but pleasant at the same time." After a chuckle, he admitted, "I thought you were going to say Greg."

"No, he asked me to go to a martini bar." When her man froze in mid-sip, Sara laughed, "How can youstill be jealous of him panting after me when I'm sharing your bed?" She snickered into her glass, "I said he asked me by the way, I didn't say I went."

Gil winked. "George Bernard Shaw said, 'Never waste jealousy on a real man: it is the imaginary man that supplants us all in the long run'. What do you think of that quote, my dear?"

"I think it means that men are always worried that there is someone out there who will come along and woo their girlfriend away. Someone richer, sexier, smarter…a guy with a better car, more toys, a nicer house, faster roaches."

"You can stop that any time now," Gil laughed as his wine buzz intensified.

Feeling the full effects of the vino they had quickly imbibed, Sara snuggled up to her date in their booth. "Aww, I promise I'll never leave you for a guy with faster racing cockroaches."

"That** truly** was the least of my worries"

Relaxed and happy, Sara swooped in for a kiss. "Ready for our first public smooch?"

"I was born ready, baby."

"Wow, that wine really is hitting you hard," Sara teased before snatching Gil's bottom lip with her mouth.

Dizzy from the grapes and drunk off his lover's slow, burning kiss, Gil felt like a million bucks. Then he overheard a passing conversation…

"_Eww, look! That chick in the booth is shoving her tongue in her dad's mouth!" _

"_Where?" _

"_There! Right there in the booth we just passed! Look! The guy with grey wavy hair and the girl wearing the ugly pinkish sweater!" _

Gil pulled out of the kiss to verify the color of his date's top. "Oh good, you're wearing mauve."

"Did that bitch just call my sweater ugly?" Sara huffed.

"You're worried about **your sweater**?" Gil choked on the chunk of pride he had been trying to swallow. "Going out is so overrated."

* * *

After walking five blocks in a drunken and depressed haze, Greg saw a taxi coming towards him. "Yo!" He waved, hoping the cabbie would stop. 

"Where to?" Malcolm Reynolds yelled out the open passenger window at the obviously drunk young man.

"22 Rancho Verde. Please say yes, I've been on the date from hell."

"That'll work."

Dizzy from the tequila, Greg slid into the back and grabbed the seat in front of him to steady himself. "Thanks for stopping."

After radioing his fare, Malcolm turned to say, "So, bad date, huh?"

"Uh…" Noticing the driver was a large middle-aged African American man, Greg froze.

"Is there a problem?" he asked, not worried about losing money now that the meter was running.

"No." Deciding to stay put, Greg anxiously overtalked, "It's just…I was already having a bad year when I had to go to the hospital yesterday and tell a teenager that I rescued on the job a few weeks ago that I only thought of her in a sisterly way. I broke her heart and since she already has like…I don't know…a bazillion broken bones and a dead mother, she really didn't need more bad news, not that it's really bad news because I'm not a good catch, but anyway…to cheer me up, my buddy set me up on this blind date from hell that I didn't want to go on in the first place because I'm crushing someone else, but I couldn't tell him that because…well…let's just say I have a good reason, but it's moot now anyway, because tonight, tonight I got** proof** that the object of my attraction is not on the same page, and on top of that, what the hell kind of a friend thinks of his **own** needs when he's **supposedly **dedicated to cheering up someone else, right?"

"Sounds pretty shitty to me."

"Exactly! But Nick does this stuff all the time though and not just to me, he's done it to Catherine too. She won't even go out as friends with him anymore because he abandons her at the bar for the first chick who smiles at him."

"That's not cool either."

"Yeah, you're right. He's an uncool shitty friend." Greg slurred, "I'd **never **stay at an apartment to have a threesome with two big-breasted bimbos if Nick left because he was hurting."

"Hold up, hold up," Malcolm cracked a grin, "you didn't mention there were girls with big titties. A guy don't walk away from a free booty opportunity, not even for his best friend. That's Man-Law, ya know what I'm sayin'? Threesome tops friend any day. The only thing more important than a threesome is a foursome, so cut homie some slack."

"Ugh, am I the **only** guy in this town who doesn't think with his penis?" Greg grumbled, "Whatever, that's why I'm hating life more than I was hating it before I left home tonight, which was a lot, which brings me to my point." He extended his booze-shaky hand. "I'm **CSI Greg Sanders**, does that ring a bell? Because if it does and you hate me, this is your lucky night," he leaned in to read the man's photo ID card, "Malcolm Reynolds I won't put up a fight if you want to kill me, because if I wasn't such a wuss, I'd do it myself. Don't make it a beating though, I'd prefer one kill shot in the third eye, right here," he tried to point to the spot, but missed and poked himself in the pupil, "Ow! That hurt."

"CSI Sanders, hell yeah I know who you are. You've been all over my TV. You're the guy who ran over Demetrius James." The cabbie gladly shook the man's hand. "Sorry to disappoint you, son, but I ain't gonna kill you. I'm pleased to meet you as a matter of fact."

"This isn't a cab, it's the Twilight Zone," Greg crashed against the cab's worn seat humming the old TV theme. "How can you not hate me?"

"I'll tell you why." Driving away, Malcolm explained, "A thug's bullet killed my fourteen year old nephew Tyrell last year. I hate thugs. I saw on TV how the James family is dancin' in the street and spendin' their 2.5 mil. That's not grief, those assholes are smilin' and givin' tours of their million dollar crib to news reporters. That mother raised a thug and now she's livin' like a thug's mama, and I'm supposed to feel sorry for her ass? No one gave my sister shit when Tyrell died, and she was raisin' him to be a preacher, not a killer. No, I don't hate you. Hell, I may be your biggest fan. Do me a favor and run over a few more thugs next week."

"While I appreciate the support," Greg moaned from the backseat, "I'm still having nightmares over the last one, so I'll have to pass." Holding his spinning head, he quietly said, "But thank you for not hating me, because sometimes it feels like every black person does."

"Nah, there's lots of us that don't, but we don't get on TV, 'cause angry black folks up their ratings and prop the myth." Checking his rear view mirror, he said, "You don't look so good. If you want me to hate you, pukin' in my cab is the way to go."

Greg whimpered, "Trust me, I don't want to puke, I hate puking, I always have. I know that sounds pretty wimpy, but it's not an unfounded phobia. When I was eight, I woke up in the middle of the night with a stomach ache. I was on the toilet with the runs when I puked so hard that I passed out and hit my head on the tub. My mom found me in a pool of blood, poop, and vomit and naturally thought I was dead, because you know…everything comes pouring out when you die. She started shaking me and screaming at the top of her lungs and then she burst into tears and rocked me in her arms. As you can imagine, I was totally freaked out when I came too in my mommy's embrace and saw us both covered in my excrement, vomit and blood. Oops…overshare." He closed his eyes. "I think I'll pass out now."

* * *

After walking five blocks back to the motel in awkward silence, Gil hoped to heal his wounded ego by fulfilling his decades-old Jacuzzi fantasy. 

"Are we clean yet?" Sara asked when she strolled over to the tub that her favorite scientist had been testing for bacterial contamination.

As the stench of Bleach assaulted his nostrils, Gil confidently replied, "I'm quite certain you won't find a cleaner Jacuzzi in any hotel anywhere."

"Well…since they're all crawling with germs that's really not all that comforting." The reluctant lover pecked her determined man's cheek. "But I trust you enough to toss my robe and take the plunge."

"I'll turn on the bubbles." Just like that, Gil felt sixteen again.

"Ooh, the temperature is perfect," Sara remarked while dipping her toes. "I'm all in."

"Hey…that's my line," Gil joked, having a fantastic time once more.

"You're a dirty old man when you're drunk."

"Did you have to say old?" Sighing, Gil shoved his boxer briefs to the floor.

"Aww." Feeling bad, Sara patted the water, "C'mere, stud. Rock my world."

"You're funny when you're drunk, Sidle."

"That's not all I am when I'm drunk." Sara slid onto her lover's lap. "I get frisky too."

Using jealousy as foreplay, Gil puckishly remarked, "Did you get drunk when you went to that wine dump in Pahrump?"

Turned on by her man's possessiveness, she murmured, "I've never been with a man in a Jacuzzi ever, so you could totally screw this up and I'll think it was my best time."

"Good to know."

"Mmm…" Sara gazed into her man's eager eyes.

"Mmm…" Gil lost himself in his woman's loving gaze.

Two minutes later, Sara delicately suggested, "Maybe I need to…"

"Yes, I think that would help," Gil anxiously confirmed when nothing was happening down below.

"How's that?"

"That's good…yes…perfect." He vigorously nodded. "I'm sure that will do the trick."

But it didn't.

"It's the hot water," Sara sweetly whispered in her sullen lover's ear after five earnest minutes of trying.

"And I don't know about you, honey, but the strong smell of bleach is making me think of a covered up murder scene, not love scene."

"I was thinking that too, but I didn't want to bring us down with morbidity."

"Did you have to say down?" the fifty year old droned.

"I have an idea." After a delicate kiss to her disappointed man's nose, Sara said, "How about you sit on the edge of the Jacuzzi and dangle your feet in the water? Would that count enough to cross the fantasy off your list?"

"I'm certain it would, yes." His spirit renewed, Gil poised himself outside of the tub. The cool air immediately rousing him, he snickered, "This is better already."

"I can see that." Eager to please the man who had gone out of his way to fulfill many of her many of her fantasies, both sexual and non, she didn't hold back.

"Sooooo good," Gil rasped a few minutes later when he lifted his mouth from Sara's chest. "Honey?" She looked pained. "Are you okay?"

Bummed that he had noticed, Sara confessed, "The chemicals in the hot tub…"

"Oh."

"I thought you were close so I didn't say anything." Smiling through the awkward moment, she pointed to the bathroom. "I have some gel in my overnight bag, I'll grab it and we'll pick up where we left off."

"I'll be here," he assured as his thoughtful lover slid off his lap. "And if you…" The sudden sensation of falling took Gil by surprise, rendering him speechless.

"Oh!" Sara screamed when she saw her man fall backwards off the Jacuzzi's edge and land on the floor with his feet in the air. "Are you okay?!"

"Um…" Flailing like a five-legged turtle, Gil tried to ignore the searing pain shooting down his back. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." Sara rushed over to help him to his feet.

"OH!" Gil instinctively grabbed his lower back. "It's nothing."

"From the look on your face I don't believe you." Taking his hand, she attempted to pull him standing, but their wet grips were slick and she ended up accidentally dropping him after only a few feet. "Sorry!"

"It's okay, I'll do it myself," Gil breathed through the pain.

"I'll get towels." Sara rushed off.

Gripping the Jacuzzi's edge, he struggled to his feet.

"Here!" Sara gently placed the towel around his shoulders.

"Thank you," he panted.

Attempting to use humor to get past the embarrassment, Sara smiled and asked, "Wanna take it to the bed for the big finish?"

"I had something else in mind." Steadying himself against the wall, Gil closed his eyes. "I think I'll pass out now."

* * *

"Hey!" Nick tore out of the house with his pistol when he saw Greg being dragged up the sidewalk by a huge black man. "Nick Stokes LVPD! Who are you and what did you do to him?!" 

Malcolm instinctively raised his hands. "We're cool."

"Ow!" Greg yelped when his head hit the sidewalk. "What did you do that for, Malcolm?"

"You know him, G?!?" Nick engaged the gun's safety.

"Yeah, Trigger, I'm his cabbie," Malcolm pointed to the sidewalk. "He didn't have enough cash in his wallet to pay his fare, something about spendin' it all on expensive booze and cheap women. I had to drag his drunk ass all the way here from the parking lot so he could pay from his piggy bank."

"Look..." Flat on his back looking up at the sky, Greg pointed, "Orion's Belt…Big Dipper…Little Dipper."

"Sorry, man." Nick felt ridiculous for being wasted enough to pull his gun on a cab driver. "I thought…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know exactly what you thought."

While Greg rattled off constellations, Nick reached for his wallet. "How much does Copernicus owe you?"

"Thirty-five before tip, and he promised me a **big** tip."

Nick laughed in the extortionist's face. "Nice try, but I know where he came from, man. That was a twenty dollar fare, tops."

"Yeah, but he got me confused with Dr. Phil and asked me to take the long way because he needed someone to talk to."

"That I'd believe." Nick shook his head and held up fifty bucks. "Is that enough for your trouble?"

"You friggin' pulled a** gun** on me, man." Malcolm held out his palm. "You better toss in another twenty. Make that thirty, 'cause therapy sessions aren't cheap in this town and your friend has **a lot** of problems." Snatching the eighty bucks, he laughed, "How was the threesome by the way?"

"Wow, he really did talk, didn't he?"

"Oh yeah, Tequila Greg spilled it **all,**" Malcolm grinned at his drunk passenger's secret love. "For another twenty I'll tell ya what he said about you."

"You took the last of my cash and I already know why he's pissed off." Nick bent over to scrape his buddy off the sidewalk. "He's ticked I made him go out with stupid women tonight."

"That's close," Malcolm walked away laughing. "Just as well he won't remember nothin' in the morning."

"Come on." Supporting his buddy's dead weight, Nick walked inside. "You've had enough adventure for one night, Toad." He kicked the door closed behind them.

"H…how can you be here?" Greg tried to focus his eyes. "You're doing the nasty with Dumb and Dumber…and I do mean nasty." He cringed.

"When Trista came in and said you left because she called you a loser, I took off after you." Dragging his housemate down the hall, Nick confessed, "I've been worried sick that you went for a walk and got jumped, that's why I went off on your cab driver."

"You gave up a threesome because you were worried about me?" Greg's heart soared as Nick threw him onto the bed. "That goes against Man Law."

"Yeah, well, it wasn't much of a sacrifice." Pulling off his buddy's shoes, Nick burst out laughing, "The truth is, I drank so much tequila, I couldn't get it up. You should have seen their reaction when I grabbed my moose boxers and ran. Ha! Runnin' out to chase you when you got your feelings hurt. Oh yeah, those two must really think I'm queer for you now." He jokingly patted Greg's cheek. "Who loves ya, baby?"

"You do," Greg dreamily sighed as the room spun out of control. "Cletus…I…I really need to let this out."

"You mean…"

"Yes! I can't believe this is happening!" Clutching his head, Greg panted, "It feels so...OH! What are you doing?!"

"Sorry, didn't mean to hurt you," Nick apologized after abruptly yanking Greg's shirt off. "Let's go!" he tugged his buddy to his feet.

"Where? Why can't we stay in the bedroom?" Greg moaned, feeling too weak to go anywhere.

"Because I don't want to make a mess in here, G."

"A mess?" Greg's anxiety skyrocketed and sweat poured down his face.

"Yeah, a mess. If there's spillage, it'll be much easier to wipe up tile than carpet." Rushing for the bathroom, Nick teased, "I've never seen you this trashed, Greggo, it's fun. It makes it real easy to mess with you and I intend to take full advantage of the situation."

"Uh…" Greg grabbed his aching gut. "Confession time…I'm really scared, like stomach-in-knots scared."

"Don't worry, I know you are," Nick assured, knowing all about his friend's vomiting phobia. "It'll be okay, you're in good hands."

"OH!" Greg exclaimed as the apparently impatient lover behind him pushed him to his knees. "What are you doing?"

"Getting you in position."

"No! I don't want to do this."

"It's gonna happen, so there's no point in fightin' it." Nick positioned his buddy's hands around the toilet bowl before rushing out to get a can of Sprite.

"Are you crazy? I don't want my first time to be over a toilet." Sweating buckets, Greg panted into the bowl, "I meant what I said about sex being a big deal to me. I'm looking for a serious relationship, not a screw buddy, and no means no! Ugh, I feel sick." He shook violently. "Really sick."

"We had one can of Sprite left," Nick announced upon return. "I'll put it on the sink for after." When he slid the can onto the counter, he knocked off Greg's toothpaste. "Oops." He bent over to pick up the economy-size tube of Crest.

When Greg saw his supposed friend reach for a jumbo tube of lube, he screamed, "No! I…" But his panicked protest was interrupted by a forceful stream of vomit.

"There you go, Toad." Nick crouched down, just in case his heavily intoxicated buddy passed out while violently purging. Placing his palm on Greg's back, he soothed, "You'll feel much better when you're done."

After four rounds of vomiting followed by a half dozen dry heaves, Nick handed his buddy the Sprite and started the shower. "You can't possibly have anything left after all that."

Shivering, Greg sat against the wall clutching the cold can of soda to his forehead. "Uh…" He felt ridiculous for thinking his best friend would force himself on him.

"Talk to me, G."

"Um…"

"Are ya gonna faint?"

"No…I'm okay." His stomach calming down, Greg glanced up. "Thanks for getting me to the bathroom." He raised the can. "And for the Sprite." His thoughts turned to watching Grissom doing the same for Sara when she got sick a month ago and a smile edged over his parched lips. "You're a good guy to have around in a vomit crisis."

Still buzzing from a night of booze, Nick teased, "And you're one hell of a sloppy vomiter. Look at you. It's on your clothes, in your hair. You got the cabinets and the floor too." Shaking his head, he chuckled, "I think there's a part for you in the next Exorcist movie." Smiling, he bent over and pulled off his buddy's socks. "Let's get you in the shower, Linda Blair."

"Ha!" Even though all evidence that evening told him a romance wouldn't happen in a million years and he had given up, in that moment, Greg felt himself falling head over heels once again.

"Careful now," Nick warned while grabbing his buddy's arm.

"Yeah." Greg gripped the towel rack. "Give me a sec, okay? I'm a little dizzy."

"No problem, I'll help you, and don't worry about the mess, I'll clean it up when you're done in here."

"Uh…" When he felt Nick working open his jeans, Greg squeaked, "You don't have to do that."

"Are you kiddin?" Vomit stench in the air, Nick chuckled, "You're not in any condition to clean, and it'll be a dried smelly nightmare in here by mornin'."

When Nick's fingertips collided with his flesh, Greg desperately willed his body not to react. _Think dead puppies!_

"Are you ticklish?" Nick asked when Greg covered his mouth and laughed.

"Uh huh." _Dead bloody puppies!_ As his pants and boxers hit the floor, Greg gave an anxious chuckle, "Okay, I…um…I can take it from here." _Dead bloody mangled puppies!_

"Aww, look who's shy." Nick's tequila laugh echoed in the small bathroom. "No, I'm gonna help you into the shower, because you can barely stand, no less walk, and I don't want to add blood from a cracked head to the mess." Seeing his buddy tense up, he sweetly said, "Sorry, I forgot you didn't play sports. Usin' crowded locker rooms and communal showers with jocks you get desensitized." He winked. "Don't worry, I promise not to peek."

"That's what Sara said before our decontamination shower, but she did."

With their eyes locked on each other, the jock laughed, "Why so paranoid about people glimpsin' the goods? Huh? What kind of freak show are ya runnin' down there, G? Are we talkin' about an odd number of testicles…a crooked snake…what?" He lowered to a whisper, "Wait, is that why you didn't want to bang Trista? Because you have jacked up plumbing? Seriously, you coulda told me."

"Ha! There's nothing wrong my plumbing, dude." Suddenly feeling much better, Greg's drunken silliness returned full force. "I didn't want to bang Trista because I like to keep my parts germ-free. But I told Sara not to peek, because whenever you tell someone not to do something, it makes them twice as curious. It was a tactical move, if you get my drift."

Leaning in, Nick chuckled, "You mean you were usin' Reverse Psychology to get Sara to check out your package? You dog, you."

"That's me. Arf." Greg gulped for air as the walls and Nick seemingly closed in on him _Wait…why am I worried? The tequila will keep me down. _"Unfortunately, my plan for Sara didn't work out too well. One glimpse of my goods and she panicked."

"Panicked?" Nick's curiosity intensified. "Why'd Sara panic?"

"She was afraid I'd be too much man for her. You know…" in a deeper, cockier voice, Greg revealed, "not everyone can handle an Anaconda."

"Ha! Right." Nick fought the urge to verify if it was true.

Greg laughed, "Eyes up! Don't look_!" I'm so totally flirting with you right now, and you're clueless. God this is fun._ "It's kind of a Medusa effect, one glimpse and you'll die a slow, painful death…of intense jealousy."

"As if," Nick rolled his eyes while dying of curiosity.

_Reverse Psychology is a powerful thing, isn't it?_ "Check my nightstand drawer…only Magnum XLs, mi amigo." Smirking, Greg walked by his buddy and stepped into the shower. "I saw you peek."

"Did not!"

"And it was a little chilly out there."

"Ha! Dream on." Nick hustled out of the bathroom staring at his suddenly inferior crotch. "Damn."

Greg yelled from behind the shower curtain. "You're checking my nightstand drawer, aren't you, Cletus!"

"No!" Nick yelled while caught in the act. "I was bein' nice and grabbin' you a fresh pair of boxers, ya ingrate!" He peeked into the nightstand drawer and laughed into his hand when he saw a nearly depleted jumbo bottle of lotion, an unopened variety-pack of regular-sized condoms, and four different kinds of lube, all with their factory safety seals firmly in place. Noting that the condoms were expired, he snickered, "I guess it really has been 'Sanders, Party of One' for a while." The CSI in him couldn't stop snooping. _No porn in the sex drawer. I wonder where he keeps it?_ He moved to check the other nightstand…then under the bed…and behind the headboard.

"So busted!" Greg yelled from the bathroom door while securing a towel around his waist. "You know I keep my boxers in the closet, you saw me grab a pair before we went out. And what kind of CSI are you if you can't find a pair of boxers in ten minutes?"

"Has it been that long?" Returning to the first nightstand drawer, Nick said, "I was gonna have to confess anyway." He retrieved the outdated condoms and walked over to his pal. "Just in case you didn't know…these are expired. Should the opportunity **arise**, I wouldn't want you to use one and have a girl end up pregnant."

"Wouldn't that be a shocker?" Enjoying the inside joke, Greg snatched the box and threw it in the bathroom trash basket. "Are you done snooping?"

"For now." Nick rubbed his stomach. "I'm hungry. Are you up to eatin' somethin'? I'm gonna walk down the street to IHOP for pancakes."

Running his fingers through his wet hair, Greg replied, "I'll pass, thanks."

"Oh." Nick sighed, "Okay, I'll just get take out then."

"And don't worry about cleaning, I've got it."

"You sure?" Nick asked, feeling bad he had forgotten his promise.

"Yeah, I'm feeling much better." Standing in the doorway of his bathroom, Greg continued his secret game, "Thanks for taking me out tonight. I had a great time."

"Really?" Nick asked through a smile, "Even with the annoying skanky women?"

"I was blocking that part."

After a shared laugh, Nick said, "I had a great time too. Seriously, we should do it again soon."

"Definitely."

"Yeah." Nick winked at his buddy. "I'll find better women next time. Seriously, don't worry, I promise."

"Okay then, I won't give women another thought." Greg's smile doubled, "Good night, Cletus."

"Yeah." With a goofy grin plastered on his face, Nick strolled for the door. "I'll see you in the morning, G."

* * *

"Hey," Sara quietly entered her injured man's ER cubicle. "Have the pain meds kicked in yet?" She had been waiting in the hall for him to return from an MRI of his lower back. 

"Finally, yes, I'm feeling no pain." He extended a shaky hand. "Except for my ego, it's still smarting and apparently morphine-resistent."

"Plenty of twenty-something guys have fallen from Jacuzzis during sex." Slipping her hand into Gil's, Sara pushed out a smile. "I read somewhere that it's the second most common Spring Break injury for men."

"What's number one?" the ever-curious scientist queried.

"Erectile burnout."

"Of course." Gil sighed, "I'm sure the twenty-somethings bounce back from their falls and continue partying. Me…I end up in an ambulance." Because Sara's BAC would have been over legal, their only option when he was doubled over in agony was to call 911.

"Don't be embarrassed, awkward things always happen during sex. That's why it's important to be friends before you're lovers, so you don't have to worry about making a fool out of yourself." She squeezed his hand. "Remember our first night together?"

In a drugged haze, Gil giggled, "You mean when you reached for a tissue and farted? Good times."

"See! So this is no big deal."

Quietly laughing with the love of his life, the embarrassment faded. "It's hardly apples to oranges, sweetheart. Farting is embarrassing, but painless. I had to have two burly men lift my naked ass onto a gurney."

"I think the chubby guy liked you," Sara teased. "He had this twinkle in his eye when he was feeling your body for breaks."

"Just when I thought I couldn't feel any more uncomfortable about this incident."

"It kind of turned me on," she joked, believing that laughter was indeed the best medicine.

"If you have an unsatisfied urge to watch two guys ogle and long for each other, I'll assign you to work with Nick and Greg more often."

Sara covered her mouth so her laughter wouldn't disturb the other patients.

"Sorry, it's the morphine talking," Gil explained. "And ever since Greg's reaction to the blender, I keep seeing something there."

"I think you making Greg gay is your subconscious way of eliminating him as a competitor." She corrected his perception. "Broken back or not…you have nothing to fear. I don't care what George Bernard Shaw said, you're irreplaceable to me."

Her words warming his heart, Gil quietly replied, "I love you, Sara. I'm sorry our first public date didn't turn out better."

"Don't worry, you'll have plenty of other chances," she assured him with her eyes and a tender kiss to his parched lips, "because I'm not going anywhere."

"Good to know," he whispered as the medication's sedative effects intensified. "I'm getting sleepy."

"Sweet dreams."

"I'll finish out my hot tub fantasy and give it a much happier ending."

"You do that." Sara pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I'll see you in the morning, Honey."

* * *

**ANs: **

This chapter officially marks the end of uncertainty on Greg's part and now begins a new phase in the N/G portion of the story…Greg is confirmed, Nick is a question mark.

I blame my love of slapstick comedy for the 'Greg thinks he's about to have sex' misunderstanding. Hopefully slash fans loved the bathroom scene, while non-slash fans appreciated the comedy/irony LOL

Did you catch the little homage to Butterflied? Gil worrying about the 'younger woman leaves older man' scenario.

With GSR, I've decided to tread lightly until after this season's finale and I can wrap my head around everything…ahhhhhhh!

Thanks to KJT for editing and GSR consultations!

Thanks to my hubby for naming the chapter 'Head over Heels'! And a few line contributions such as 'flailing like a five-legged turtle' and 'what kind of freak show are you runnin' down there?' LOL

**Thanks,  
****Maggs **


	14. Chapter 14: Unconditional Love

**Where You Are  
****Written By: Ms. Maggs / Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 14: Unconditional Love**

"A little better," Greg moaned into his cell phone as he lay in bed gripping his throbbing head. "Wait…what time is it?" He strained to see the alarm clock. "Jeeeez, Mom," he groaned out of irritation and from the hangover pain. "It's only eight forty." Thanks to the sunlight-blocking blinds on the windows it was still pitch black in the room even though it was Sunday morning. "I was sound asleep."

"Sound asleep? But you should be just getting in from your graveyard shift, dear. I'm looking right at the copy of your schedule that you emailed me. You know I print it and tack it to the fridge, so I can keep track. Does this mean you're not working midnight to eight anymore? Because you know I hate…"

"No, sorry to disappoint you, I'm still working graveyard. Grissom negotiated a weekend off for us because we've been pulling a lot of OT." After clicking on his nightstand lamp, he saw a water bottle with a post-it note on it that read 'Drink Me'. Next to the bottle were two Excedrin poised on a post-it with the words 'Swallow Me'. A third note read 'I had a feeling you'd be hurting after our adventure with Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber last night. There's a take out box from IHOP in the fridge for you too.'

"Greg!"

"Sorry," Greg chuckled into the phone. "I got distracted reading the cute note my date left on the nightstand."

"Date? What date?"

"Doh! I said that out loud?" Greg tossed the Excedrin in his mouth and grabbed the water bottle.

"What was **her **name?" Jan asked with a hopeful lilt.

"Trista," he covered. "Nick set us up."

"Did she have any potential?"

"Yes, for transmitting STDs."

"Please tell me you used a condom."

"No, I didn't, because things never got that far and, Mom," crawling out of bed, Greg droned, "you do realize that normal mothers don't expect to hear every detail of their son's sex life, right?"

"I don't want the gory details of your personal life, son, I just need to know you're safe and happy."

Padding to the bathroom, he joked, "Then you have nothing to worry about, because I have a very strong, clean hand."

"That was uncalled for," Jan scolded while laughing.

"I need to pee, Mother. Would you like me to hold the phone close to the stream, so you can assess my prostate health?"

"No, you little ingrate, I was calling because you were so depressed about hurting Jenni when I spoke to you yesterday, that I was worried, but I can see you're in a pissy mood, so..."

"Pissy! Ha! Yes, I told you I have to pee." When he heard Jan sniffle, Greg softened, "Okay, okay, don't get upset. I appreciate you checking on me. Let me put you on hold while I pull myself together and then we'll talk. I want to talk…really, don't hang up."

"Fine," Jan huffed.

"Be right back." While setting his cell on the counter, Greg saw his discarded jeans and boxers on the bathroom floor and smiled. Between Nick's silliness the previous night and the cute notes on the nightstand, it was incredibly easy to believe there was something going on between them. "No," he warned his reflection when he stopped to check his bloodshot eyes in the mirror.

"God, I feel like shit." Tossing up the toilet seat, Greg lectured himself that Jeff used to do a lot of the same things as Nick. He used to leave funny notes and joke around. He sat flirtatiously close on the couch and touched his arm and shoulders during conversations. But after being so wrong about his old roommate, he wasn't about to make the same mistake with his new one. He had learned the hard way that wishful thinking can make even the most innocent gesture seem like a grand romantic move and sometimes a straight man can accidentally encourage a hopelessly romantic guy without knowing how he's being perceived.

_Maybe it's time for a look at the term paper, huh, Sanders? _Through a Spring 2005 Stanford Alumni newsletter profiling graduates on the move, Greg had learned that Jeff was now working as a DNA Analyst in Seattle and married to a woman named Cecilia and that they had two children, Peyton and Connor, as well as a Collie named Max. The article contained a family photo snapped during a summer vacation on the Oregon coast. It wasn't until he saw that piece of visual evidence that he truly believed he had been wrong about his best buddy that fateful day. Believing the saying 'a picture is worth a thousand words', he deemed the Garsen family snapshot as a term paper on his inability to accurately assess a man's true desires, and he kept the newsletter in his desk in case he needed a reminder.

"I hate hangovers." After flushing the toilet and washing his hands, Greg bent down to pick up the clothes his housemate had so kindly removed for him the previous night. It was all a drunken blur, but recalling his near-confession he vowed to lay off drinking tequila with his buddy, and made a promise never to reveal his secret desire unless Nick made an overt physical move, or said something definitive.

"I'm back, Mom," Greg announced when the phone was against his ear again. Trembling from alcohol shakes and a trip down bad memory lane, he apologized, "I'm sorry I was rude. I'm really hungover and in a very bad mood, but I shouldn't take it out on you." He slid down the wall and sat in the exact spot he had been laughing with Nick only hours before. The spot where he had fallen harder than ever for the cowboy whose smile made his heart rate soar. "I love you, Mom." The emotion of the last forty-eight hours catching up with him, his voice cracked, "And I really do need someone to talk to. I think I paid a cab driver to listen to me last night, that's how desperate I am, not to mention pathetic."

"My goodness, what's wrong, sweetheart?"

"What's not wrong?" he replied, as tears built in his eyes. "On top of everything I already told you, last night my stupid date went **on** and **on** about how guys treat her like crap and how her boyfriend broke up with her the day before her birthday because he didn't want to spring for a card and gift." His head and heart pounding, he said, "She was desperate to have sex, but I told her I didn't believe in casual sex with strangers and I wouldn't take advantage of her being drunk and vulnerable on her birthday. She **raged **at me and called me a loser. Can you believe it? Once again, I do the right thing and I get shit on. If I had just slammed Trista down on the kitchen table and screwed her senseless, I would have been her freakin' knight in shining armor."

"But, honey, you did the right thing and I'm proud of you for it. I know it's not fair that you keep getting shit on in return for your trouble, but the world has never been a fair place and unfortunately, too many people don't appreciate good morals and ethics anymore. This Trista sounds like an ignorant witch, just like Lacey, and I know it's discouraging, but you can't give up, sweetie. Don't become one of them, stay who you are."

"That's what Nick told me too."

"Then that's another reason I really like that boy."

Greg's mouth inched into a smile. _He took care of me when I vomited last night, you'd like him for that too._

"Keep the faith, honey. One day soon you're going to find a nice, sweet girl to marry and…"

"Mom…" He closed his eyes, really not in the mood to hear about grandkids.

"You'll have kids and raise them right, just like your father and I raised you. I know you don't believe me, but it'll all work out."

"Mom, don't…"

"Seriously, honey, I know it feels hopeless now, but one day when you have the grandkids here for a visit, we'll look back on this conversation and laugh about how you thought it would never…"

"Stop!" he yelled into the phone. "Stop the grandkids talk! Stop!"

"I…I'm sorry, Greg, I was just trying to cheer you up by painting a rosy picture."

Tears spilling from his eyes, he quietly said, "I think it's time we dealt with the reality that grandkids probably won't happen. I'm thirty two, I haven't had a serious relationship in ten years, and…I'm sorry, Mom." He sucked in a jagged breath, "I'm really sorry."

"Honey…" Jan broke the silence a minute later, "I meant what I said earlier, I want you safe and happy. If my wishes for grandkids have made you think that I would be angry with you or not love you any more if you told me you were...if you said you were…oh, God…help me out here, Greg, are you waiting for me say it, or do you want me to wait for you to say it? If you're not sure of the protocol, I could check the PFLAG website I've had bookmarked for years."

An anxious laugh tumbled from Greg's mouth as he cried.

"I love you unconditionally, honey, now please say it so we can move on…so you can too."

"Okay." Greg wiped his tears and confessed what his mother already suspected, "I like girls, Mom, I really do, but I like boys too…maybe even a little more."

"Are you sure? I'm not trying to sway you, I don't even believe that's possible when a person is truly…gay. I just…I need to understand **how **you know, because you've seemed awfully confused over the years and I guess I just need to hear a definitive explanation. You can tell me anything, sweetheart, you know that. We're both adults now, and I'm hardly a prude."

"Yeah, I know," He forced some levity, "Until we moved into the big house I grew up listening to you and Dad get it on across the hall, remember?"

"How many times do I have to tell you, we thought we were being discrete?!"

"Yeah, okay, let's get back to answering your question before I sober up." Relieved and anxious at the same time, he started, "Ever since puberty, I've been crushing both girls and guys. I spent **many** days and nights trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with me, or what was right is more accurate I guess. In high school, I kissed Kelli Conrad and Bart Pillard in the same week, and both make out sessions felt equally fantastic. I went away to Stanford confused, but when I fell in love with Lacey, she was the only person I ever thought about, so I thought the guy thing was just a phase. After getting dumped by that lying skank for maintaining my virginity pledge, I went out and bedded the first slut who would have me."

"You used a condom, right?" Jan laughed as she cried. "Because I want grandkids, but not a slut's lovechild."

"Yes, I did, and while we're clearing things up, please know I've never had sex without a condom in my life and stop asking me."

"Okay, and what about what you swore on your Nana's grave about?"

"I was telling the truth."

"Then how do you know for sure, honey? Kissing is hardly a determining factor. If you've only had sex with girls, how do you know you'll even enjoy being intimate with a guy?"

"Jan, you've been around the block," he joked his way through the sensitive question, "You know there are other things two people can…"

"Got it!"

"Good, because I really didn't know how I was going to rephrase my answer."

"Was Jeff one of those boys?"

"No," he snipped.

"What really happened with him?"

All the levity gone from his voice, Greg replied, "I fell harder for him than Lacey, and I thought he felt the same. He did so many things that led me to that conclusion, and I figured he was like me…too scared to say it out loud. On my birthday he gave me this great gift and I hugged him. The way he hugged me back, I was 100 sure I was right. I looked him in the eyes and said it was okay, that I had fallen in love with him too. He responded by pushing me away and telling me he wasn't queer. When I shared my theory about him being in denial he beat the crap out of me. He probably would have choked me to death if his basketball teammate hadn't shown up and pulled him off me."

"I knew it! Is it too late to press charges, Gregory?"

"Yes."

"What about a civil suit? Because I want him to pay for what he did to you! I'll donate the money to the charity of your choice, but he needs to pay!"

"Mom, he's married with two kids, I wouldn't want to ruin the kids lives, would you?"

"No," she sighed. "See you get your kindness gene from me! I'm a big softie when it comes to kids, you know that. Ugh! But I'll tell you, if I **ever **see him somewhere, he's going to hear an earful…if his kids aren't with him."

"Okay, Mama Bear." Greg continued, "Anyway, after the Jeff blowout, I took some time off from people for a while, but eventually I bounced back and dated girl, boy, girl, boy, but to be honest, Mom…no one really seems to think of me as boyfriend material. I can have all the sex I want with desperate women like Trista, and during my one and only visit to a gay bar, I had seven different guys ask me if I would bottom, but nobody wants to hang with me on a regular basis. I'm universally annoying to both genders. After one date I'm always deemed too hyper, depressing, cerebral, boring, geeky, talkative, goofy, and/or too weird." He sighed, "They're not wrong, I am all of those things…sometimes all of those things within a span of an hour. Most people can't deal with me. My job stress, and the crazy work hours don't help either."

"I know you said Sara is off the market, but this is **exactly **why a girl like her would be good for you, honey…besides understanding the stress of your job and the odd hours, she's very butchy, so it would be like having a boy** and** a girl at the same time. Sure she couldn't…uh…but if you've made it to thirty-two years old without having intercourse with a boy when you've been naked with one, then you can probably live without it, don't you think? Honestly, I've done the backdoor thing, and if you're on the receiving end it's really not much to write home about unless you're very drunk, then I'll admit it's quirky fun, like using cuffs or edible panties. Although, as I understand it, the prostate does factor in for men, so maybe the pleasure is significantly increased and..."

"**Stop talking!**" Greg covered his eyes. "Oh my God, stop talking! My ears are bleeding, Jan! **Bleeding!** Oh! We were doing so well and then you** leapt** out of the comfort zone. I **so **didn't need to know you were doing that across the hall with Dad."

"I never said I was with your father," Jan snickered. "I went to college for a year you know, and it was a wild year, let me tell you."

"OH!"

"I fooled around with a girl once, got all the way to third base, well I guess two girls really can't hit a homer, now can they? Ha!"

"I can't hear you, Jan, the blood pooling in my ears has rendered me deaf."

"I guess you inherited your gayness from me then, huh? Can you do a DNA analysis and find out for sure?"

"Sorry, there's no definitive process for that yet." Laughing through his extreme discomfort, Greg asked, "What about pot, Jan? Did you spark up in between sordid romps?"

"Yes, but I didn't inhale."

"Ha! I knew it! My mommy was a burner. I guess I inherited my taste for weed from you too."

"No, you got that from your father. I only dabbled, but he used to grow his own until you were born. I was too worried you'd eat the plants and die, so I made him give up the hobby."

The mention of his father jarred him back to reality. "Hey, um…don't tell Dad about me, okay? I'll tell him eventually, but you know I don't like disappointing him, and…"

"Honey, if I had a dime for every time your father said 'I wish he would just tell us he's gay already' I could buy a Tiffany necklace. Can we please tell him? You or me, or we can do it together."

"Really?" Greg asked in surprise. "You think he's going to be okay?"

"He's said the only thing that would upset him is knowing how badly I want grandchildren, but there's always surrogacy! Hey, if Nick turns out gay, he told me he loves kids and is a fantastic uncle. Maybe…"

"And just like that Jan goes from supportive friend back to meddlesome mother. Thank you for righting the universe, Mom." After sharing a laugh, Greg sweetly said, "And thanks for cheering me up."

* * *

"A little better," Gil moaned while Sara slipped her hand into his. Resting in his hospital bed, he was grateful to have her back at his side. "I'm really glad you're here." 

"Sorry, I meant to get back to the hospital sooner," she explained, feeling bad that it was after ten. "I didn't set the alarm clock right and then I had to call Jenni's grandfather and tell him I wouldn't be back to…"

"I forgot about that."

"It's okay." Sara tossed her purse and jacket on the visitor's chair. "I spoke to Jenni and she understood it was beyond my control." Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, she assured, "And I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

"Thank you, honey."

"So what did the doctor say?"

"Herniated disc. I'll be released this afternoon and need to follow up with my primary care physician, but the doctor said I should feel significantly better after a few days of rest, because it's not severe."

"That's a relief." Sara smiled, "The lab would fall apart if you were gone more than a few days."

"I'd like to believe that," he sighed, feeling less than confident at the moment.

Trying to put a smile on her sullen man's face, Sara joked, "If you put Catherine in charge during your recuperation I'll withhold sex for a year."

"I was thinking Warrick should run the show while I'm gone," Gil quickly replied, and after a shared laugh he said, "The doctor said I will probably be out of commission in the bedroom for a while. He's a funny guy, he told me I've herniated my booty call disc."

"I'm not worried." Sara winked. "There are other ways to be intimate and we're trained to think outside the box."

"That we are."

"So, do you need anything? A pillow fluff? A glass of water? Something to eat from the cafeteria?" Sara stood and rubbed her hands together, "This is my second chance at being a supportive girlfriend and I'm not going to blow it."

"The fact that you're still with me after last night's humiliation is the ultimate show of support, honey."

"It's going to take a lot more than that to make me run screaming."

"Something like finding me trying on your lingerie?" he teased as his mood perked and his latest dose of narcotics flowed through his veins.

"Uh…that would be negotiable," she chuckled in reply, but quickly turned serious. "In case you were wondering…lying, cheating, and violence are non-negotiable."

"Then I have nothing to worry about," he stated without hesitation. "I'd never lie, cheat, or hurt you, Sara."

"Then I have nothing to worry about either." Leaning over, she brushed a kiss over his lips. "You need some water," she stated after kissing his parched mouth.

As Sara filled his pink plastic hospital cup, Gil distantly remarked, "With the exception of my mother, every woman I've trusted has lied to me." Feeling uninhibited from the medication, he shared, "After my father died, I grew very close to my mother. I've told you as much. It was a very healthy relationship, so when I went out into the world and began trying to fit in socially, I didn't have any negative feelings about women. It was very easy for me to believe that all women were just like my mother…sweet and honest. She loved me unconditionally, and I was naïve enough to think that girls would too." A goofy grin emerged. "Boy was I wrong about that. My mother's love was unconditional, but every girl I met was hyper-critical. At home I could do no wrong, but in the dating world, I couldn't do anything right. I guess I still carry that baggage with me."

"I have some overstuffed suitcases as well, don't worry." Sara handed over the water. "Unlike you though, I entered the dating world with no faith in men."

"Rightly so considering what you've shared about your father."

"Yeah."

"I was the Biology Club President in high school. I didn't date until my senior year when this girl, Lisa Swanson, a fellow geek, asked me to help her on a project. She was my first kiss and I was quite smitten." Sighing, he said, "But she dumped me for Barney Panko, the Chemistry Club President."

"Lost out to a Chem geek, huh?" Sara teased, "No wonder you're always jealous when it comes to Greg."

"I hadn't considered that possibility," Gil chuckled, "you may be on to something."

"My first serious boyfriend was a guy named Jake Fife. He was twenty and worked part-time on campus at Harvard, in the maintenance department. His uncle was in charge and got him the job. We met when he was fixing the plumbing in my dorm. He wasn't anything like the other guys I had met. He wasn't a geek. He was going to community college, majoring in business." Retaking her seat on the bed's edge, she somberly shared, "I was having a great time with him, I really thought he was different. Then one night right after finals, we went out celebrating. We had been drinking and we got into an argument about something stupid, I don't even remember what it was, and…he smacked me."

Gil reached out for Sara's hand.

"He immediately apologized," she distantly said, thinking back to the horrible night. "I was afraid, so I accepted the apology. I even had make up sex with him, because I just didn't know what he'd do if I didn't. After that, I made an excuse about having to work on campus in the morning. I went back to my dorm and saw my cheek was bright red. Instinctively I reached for makeup to cover it up. I had seen my mother do that so many times, I guess it was second nature." After a deep breath, she said, "I was her…drunk, bruised, and covering up the truth. I had to break the cycle. I packed my things and was on a bus to California in the morning."

"That's why you transferred to Berkeley?" Gil queried, feeling bad for never asking the question before.

"Yeah." She flicked a tear from her cheek. "Smarter, stronger and determined to never find myself in that situation again. I managed to successfully never date another violent man, but unfortunately my radar for liars and cheaters never developed."

"You're safe with me," Gil assured, "I know how it feels to be lied to and cheated on. I can't imagine inflicting that pain on someone I love, and you are certainly someone, Sara Sidle…and you are everything to me."

"You're very romantic when you're drugged," she sniffled. "Thank you."

"No, thank you. Before you came to see me, I felt like a loser," he confessed. "Hearing the twenty-something doctor ramble on about men my age and injuring my booty-call disc…it wasn't a good morning." He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. "Thanks for cheering me up."

* * *

"G! You have a delivery!" Nick shouted from the front door. 

"A delivery?" Greg sat up on the couch just in time to see his housemate carrying a jumbo gift basket into the living room.

"FTD's **Garden Paradise** Fruit Basket," Nick said while reading the tag. "Pretty fancy, this had to set someone back. I'll be honest, I was tempted to claim it for myself and not give ya the card." He handed over the envelope.

"It's from my dad." Immediately getting the joke, Greg's laughter filled the room.

"My dad never sends me anything," Nick huffed as he set the basket on the coffee table. "You're lucky."

"Yeah, I really am," Greg gushed as he silently re-read the supportive message.

**_Orange you silly…of course I still love you.  
__You'll __always_**_** be the apple of my eye, son.  
**__**Everything's peachy keen with me, don't worry.  
**_**_Enjoy the FRUIT basket!  
__Love, Dad_**

**_P.S. How do you feel about Cambodian adoption?  
__Kidding! I'm buying Jan a puppy, that should keep her happy for a while._**

"About this fruit…" Nick commented while rubbing his belly, "you are gonna share, right?"

"No." Inheriting his father's wicked sense of humor, Greg laughed, "It's forbidden fruit and if you eat a piece..."

"Hey!" Nick protested, "I shared my sister's toll house cookies with you!"

"I was kidding." Greg plucked a red Fiji apple from the display and presented it. "Don't say I didn't warn you, Adam."

"I'll take my chances." Nick wasted no time biting into the apple. "Mmm, I knew it was the good stuff." He dropped onto the couch and kicked up his feet. "Thanks, G."

"My pleasure." Greg plucked a banana from the basket and peeled it.

"How is the banana?" Nick asked, watching his housemate break off a bite and stuff it in his mouth. Suddenly his apple didn't seem as appealing. "Mmm, I can smell it from here."

"Are you coveting my banana, Cletus?" Greg asked, barely able to keep a straight face.

"I like 'em like that, yeah…all yellow, but before the brown sets in."

"You want it?" Greg held out his piece of fruit. "I broke off my piece in case you were worried, Germ Boy."

"If you don't want it, yeah, potassium is good for a hangover." But then he remembered he had gained two pounds that week and handed it back. "No, that's okay."

"Really, I don't mind."

Nick laughed, "No, really."

"You can deny it, but deep down…we both know you want it."

"You know me well," Nick chuckled while snatching the fruit from his buddy's hand. "Hey, what do you want to watch?"

"Discovery Channel," Greg droned while staring at his supposedly straight buddy chomp the banana. _Seriously, could you be any closer to me on the couch?! What the hell am I supposed to think when you're less than a foot away?! _

Nick surfed up to the requested channel.

Looking at the three feet of unused couch on the opposite side of his housemate, Greg debated if his friend was sending a signal or not. _I need a sign. Send me a sign!_

Reaching the Discovery Channel, Nick announced, "Perfect Disaster is just about to start."

_There's my sign. _Greg silently laughed.

Grabbing an orange, Nick asked, "Why did your dad send you a fruit basket anyway?"

"It's a long story."

"So." Nick started peeling his orange. "It's not like we don't have time. We're just sittin' around nursin' our hangovers."

"You really want to know?" Greg gulped, feeling almost brave enough to tell the truth.

"Duh…I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know."

"Right."

Resting his head on the back of the couch, Nick glanced up at his pal, "I'm waiting."

"Okay, okay." After a deep breath, Greg began, "My dad found out something today…something important…about me. My mom told him actually and he wanted to make sure that I knew…" The ring of his cell phone startled him and he wondered if it was another sign. "I better get that." He pulled the phone from his belt. "Hmm…it's Jenni's grandfather."

"What do you think he wants?"

"Knowing my luck, Undersheriff McKeen has convinced him to charge me with statutory rape." He flipped open the phone and nervously answered, "This is Greg."

Nick muted the TV and tried to figure out the gist of the conversation.

When Greg snapped the phone shut a few minutes later, he glanced over at his concerned friend. "Hmm."

"What?"

"He said Sara called from Kingman, Arizona to say she wouldn't be able to see Jenni before her surgery as promised, because she was taking care of a close friend who got injured when they were out last night."

"Sara has friends?" Nick said in surprise. "Besides us, I mean."

"I guess so," Greg answered, pretending he hadn't figured out a month ago that it was Grissom.

"What are you doin'?" Nick asked when he saw his housemate bolt from the couch. "Where are you goin'?"

"Oh, Walt asked me to come to the hospital because Jenni feels terrible for saying she hated me. She's desperate to apologize before her surgery in case something was to go wrong."

"Aww." Nick clicked off the TV and followed his pal. "I'll drive you, because you drank way more than me last night and your BAC is probably still above legal."

"I didn't think of that, thanks."

"Frog's always thinkin' of Toad," Nick joked while grabbing his jacket and keys from their hooks. "So, Sara has a secret love, huh?"

_Who doesn't?_ Greg thought as he tugged on the A&M sweatshirt that his secret love had given him.

"A mystery guy for Sara." Nick opened the front door. "I'm gonna figure out who it is."

"I'm sure." Greg winked, "Because nothin' gets by you, Super Sleuth."

* * *

**ANs: **

Is it clear that Greg inherited his tendency to overtalk when nervous from his mother? LOL

Huge leaps of faith for Greg, Sara and Gil as they all bared their souls to loved ones. I wanted to share more of their backstories and baggage. Nick, on the other hand…we learned his father never sends him anything and he likes to eat fruit and invaded Greg's personal space LOL yes there's a lot more development for him ahead.

Greg coming out to his parents was pretty easy because they're very liberal to begin with, and because they figured it out long before he said anything. Other people have a much more difficult time and don't receive a quick acceptance. I really doubt Nick's parents would react the same way for example. Would Greg have really gone through with coming out to Nick if he hadn't rec'd the phone call? We'll never know, but it probably won't be simple if/when the time comes ;)

**Thanks,  
****Maggs :)**


	15. Chapter 15: Suspicious Minds

**Where You Are  
****Written By: Ms. Maggs / Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 15: Suspicious Minds**

"You really are a genius," Dave Sanders told his son as they stood outside of Jenni Riley's hospital room watching Jan mother the sweet, needy girl. "A teenager is** much **better than a puppy." At Greg's request, Jan had driven to Vegas four days ago to meet the motherless child and bestow a little of her infamous TLC. "Good job."

"Thanks, Dad," Greg proudly replied. "I really thought it would be a win-win situation for everyone. With no cash, no experience raising a teenage girl, and only a one-bedroom trailer, Grandpa Joe was freaked when he found out he was Jenni's only living relative. He's thrilled that you and mom have agreed to take her in. With him living less than an hour from you guys in California, he'll still be able to see her regularly." Watching his mother braid the girl's hair, he said, "Jenni told me not to tell her grandfather, but she was terrified about moving to his trailer park. Every time she visited there, she'd get harassed by some guys living around the corner, they'd offer her drugs and say they'd show her a good time."

"Yeah, I had my suspicions that was the case. I know the area where Joe lives and I'd be scared there after dark, so I certainly don't blame her." Dave draped his arm around his boy's shoulders. "My lawyer said he'll have the joint-guardianship papers finalized later today. You sort of won't be an only child anymore. Think you'll be okay sharing your mom?"

"Hell yes!" Grinning wide, Greg admitted, "I'm more than happy to split Jan's intensity with someone.

"I figured." Dave checked his watch. "Since your mother is occupied with Jenni, I can actually enjoy you all to myself. How about we grab some dinner before your shift starts?" It was six days since Greg had come out and he wanted to do a little bonding and assure his son all was well. "If we have time after dinner, I'll give you a hundred to burn at a Blackjack table and we'll play some cards together."

"I just need to stop home to change clothes and stock my kit, but yeah, that'd be great." Greg nodded, happy that all was well between him and his dad. "Let's go."

* * *

"You really are a genius," Gil exclaimed when his significant other showed him his reorganized closet. She had positioned all his essentials so he wouldn't have to bend over or reach up. "Now I won't aggravate my back reaching for socks." 

"Did I pass the final exam for Girlfriend 101?"

"A-plus, Ms. Sidle," the professor sealed his grade with a kiss. "So what if you don't make chicken soup? Between your organization skills and your prowess in bed…I am a happy, happy man."

"And easy to please if a shoe rack and a few cheap thrills is all it takes."

"Speaking of thrills…" he selected a shirt. "I'm thrilled to be going back to work tonight."

"You've been working from home all week," Sara laughed.

"I stand corrected…I can't wait to get back into the field tonight."

"You're like a kid on Christmas Eve."

"That's exactly how I feel," Gil laughed at his geeky self. "Like when I was seven and hoping Santa would bring me an ant farm."

"Did he?"

"Of course, I was a very good boy." Fondly recalling those happy mornings, he shared, "Christmas was my favorite holiday. My mom went all out making…" He fell silent.

"I know that look." Sara smiled at her concerned significant other. "You feel bad, because you think your happy family memory has evoked a bad one for me."

"No one reads me like you do, honey."

"I actually have a good story to share, believe it or not." A bittersweet chuckle tumbled out of her mouth, "Good by Sidle Family standards anyway. The last Christmas before my father died, I woke up and saw Santa had left two naked drunks under the tree, aka my parents. I woke them up and my dad scrambled for his boxers and said Santa must have gotten lost trying to find the living room. I vividly remember him staggering down the hall and then coming back with a black garbage bag of gifts. He told me Santa must have got fed up and dropped the bag on his way out. Then he had me go back to my room for a few minutes and come out for a redo. Once my mom threw some clothes on, she made a big breakfast." After a deep breath, she sweetly said, "It's getting easier and easier to open up to you about my past."

"Good." Gil dropped a kiss onto Sara's cheek. "I feel the same way when it comes to talking to you."

Through a smile, Sara said, "I need to shower for work."

Gil followed his mate out of the closet, "You know…I've having one hell of a time washing my back due to my limited range of motion. Do you think…"

Pulling back the shower curtain, she motioned for her man to join her. "Let's go."

* * *

"It's good to see you again." Walking into the kitchen, Dave extended his hand towards Nick for a shake. "We met when Greg was in the hospital, remember?" 

"Yeah, good to see you again too, Mr. Sanders." It was like looking at Greg thirty years from now. Nick smiled, "Glad that we're meetin' under much better circumstances."

"Please…call me Dave."

"Okay, Dave, I will. Uh…" With wet hair and a towel wrapped around his waist, Nick apologized, "Sorry, I got hungry showerin', so I ran out here for a bite before getting dressed. Where's Greg at anyway?"

"Taking out the trash."

"He's so good about that," Nick laughed.

"It was his job at home from the time he was nine."

"That explains it."

"Hey, if you're hungry, then you're in luck, I'm taking Greg to Blackstone's Steak House at the Monte Carlo where Jan and I are staying. Why don't you get dressed and come with us."

"Really? I don't want impose if you two had special plans."

"It wouldn't be an imposition at all." Dave smiled at the man his wife had told him Greg secretly adored. "As a matter of fact, I insist on buying you the best steak in the house. It's the least I can do for you since you very generously invited my son to share your home."

"Alright then, you're on." Already tasting filet mignon, Nick hurried down the hall. "I need about five minutes."

"No problem." When he heard the front door open, Dave turned to inform his son, "I hope you don't mind, but I just invited Nick to join us for dinner."

Happy to hear the news, Greg chuckled, "That carnivore will be thrilled to eat at Blackstone's."

"Yeah, he seemed excited." Dave pulled his boy close. "He was only wearing a towel," he snickered, "you have very good taste."

"Dad!" Greg simultaneously laughed and panicked. "I can't believe…"

"You know Jan tells me everything."

Greg whispered in reply, "Then she also told you that Nick's never said he's gay and him finding out about me would be a disaster."

"According to your mother he's deeply repressed, and considering he walked out here dripping wet in a towel looking for you…I'd have to agree."

"Yeah, well until proven otherwise, we say nothing. Promise me."

"I promise."

* * *

"It's good to see you again," Ecklie greeted his top lab man when they met in the hall. "This place isn't the same without you, Gil." 

"You had to get your hands dirty, huh?"

"Yeah," Conrad droned, "so make sure your kitchen floor is dry before you walk on it from here on out."

"Trust me, I won't be repeating my mistake."

"A lot has happened around here while you were gone."

Gil pointed toward the exit. "I'm meeting Brass and Sidle at the diner so they can fill me in."

"Good." As his employee walked off, Conrad yelled, "remember, no more walking on wet floors!"

"I promise."

* * *

"How are the appetizers?" Dave queried from his side of the booth were he was sipping Merlot and stealthily studying Nick. 

"My scampi's great, thanks," Nick answered while waving a shrimp tail. "You know, between your wife cookin' Greg and me dinner all week and you takin' me out tonight, I bet I gain five pounds. I've already gained four since your son moved in."

"Greg's an excellent cook," Dave proudly confirmed. "His mother forced him to learn, and whenever he'd complain, she'd tell him…when your date spends the night in your bed because they know you'll make them Nana Olaf's Stuffed French Toast for breakfast, you'll call to thank me."

"Hey…" Nick gave his buddy a shove, "how come you've never made me Stuffed French Toast?"

After chuckling at his father's reaction to Nick's outrage over never being cooked the special 'overnight date' breakfast, Greg replied, "I'm saving that until the end of football season so you'll have another reason to keep me around."

Nick explained to his host, "He's talkin' about how I can't wait to watch my Aggies play on that sixty-three inch plasma of ours."

_Ours?_ Dave curiously replied, "College football season is about five months away and lasts for three, right?"

"Yeah, the opener is September first against Montana State," Nick confirmed.

"I'm sorry, you think this is a long-term living arrangement, Nick?" Dave lifted his wine glass. "Because my understanding is that it's just temporary until Greg finds a new place." The seasoned poker-player continued to decipher the Texan's tells. _You're suddenly looking pretty anxious there, pal. _"Greg, isn't that why you asked me about helping you with a down payment? So you can buy a place of your own?" _Ha! Tex is really panicking now. It could be platonic though, maybe the poor guy is just desperate for a friend after all the shit he's been through. _

"Yeah, Dad. I know I told you it was short term, but only because I really didn't think living with Nick would work out. I've changed my mind though." Greg looked at his housemate, "Living together is good, right?"

"Hell, yeah, it's great!" Nick vehemently nodded at his buddy and then Mr. Sanders, "I love havin' Greg around."

"Greg or his TV?" Dave chuckled, trying to get something more out of the cowboy. "You used 'ours' in reference to the plasma. I bought him that TV for Christmas and you're not keeping it when he moves."

"Sorry, the TV's just a runnin' joke between us, **please** don't think I'm that shallow," Nick gave an anxious laugh, worried that he offended his host. "All kiddin' aside, after livin' alone for so long, it's nice to have someone there, especially after a hard day. Greg's a great listener, when he's not ramblin' on himself, and he's funny, god damn hilarious at times. He knows just how to cheer me up when I'm pissed off, which is a lot lately, because this city and the people in it seem to be gettin' scummier by the day. You raised him right, Mr. Sanders, he's a real considerate guy to live with, a hell of a lot better than my siblings or college roomies were. He pulls his own weight around the house and more. Don't repeat this, but…our co-worker Warrick Brown used to be my best friend, but he got married and I was kinda without one exactly when I needed one the most. Greg filled the vacancy, and he's turnin' out to be the best friend I've ever had. I say that because I'm comfortable tellin' him things that I wasn't able to talk about before, and I know I can trust him. So, I hope you'll believe me when I say that while the TV is an undeniably nice bonus, it's your son that I really like havin' around and I hope he…" When he noticed his buddy gaping at him, Nick flustered, "I hope he uh…"

Dave silently stared at the Texan, half expecting him to ask for Greg's hand in marriage.

"Don't stop now!" Greg nudged his housemate. _Oh my God, it's like you're about to ask my dad for my hand in marriage! _

"Yes, don't stop," the hopeful father prodded. "You hope my son sticks around, because…"

"Sorry, I lost my train of thought for a sec. I hope he stays because…" Feeling inexplicably awkward, Nick glanced around the restaurant and when he saw the TV playing in the bar, he said, "Because it's nice havin' someone to split the cable bill with. Those bastards have raised their rates a bunch of times, the frickin' sports package has doubled actually. I used to get free cable from Luna because one of their employees almost killed me, but they went out of business and now I have to pay, so yeah, I hope Greg stays because it's nice that he's pickin' up half of the utilities and whatnot."

When Nick glanced away, Dave winked at his son. "I'd bet the farm."

"Bet the farm on what?" Nick asked when he turned back around.

"That our entrees will be here any minute," Greg covered. "Hmm, maybe not, Dad, because I see our waitress, but no food."

"How are you guys doing?" the busty blond waitress cheerily asked, while leaning over the table. "Ready for some drink refills?"

"Yeah, that'd be great, thanks." Nick held up his empty soda glass, wishing he didn't have to go to work in a couple of hours so he could order a beer.

"Another round," Dave confirmed and when the perky girl left the table he said, "Did you guys see those D cups?" He smirked behind his wine glass.

Nick shrugged while reaching for a piece of bread. "No, but everyone knows I'm an ass man."

While his father choked on Merlot, Greg laughed into his napkin. "I'm having the best time."

* * *

"How are the appetizers?" Brass asked from his side of the booth where he was seriously rethinking his guess about Gil's female roommate. 

"The mozzarella sticks are great," Sara replied while twirling her next one in the small bowl of tomato sauce provided. "Thanks for taking us out."

_Us?_ Brass smiled at his coworkers who were sitting awfully close. "So, Gil, how did you manage at home with the bad back? I threw out my back once back when I was married and if I didn't have the wife there to help me out, I don't know what I would have done."

"It was a bit difficult at first, but once I rearranged some things and organized myself, I was fine." Gil reached for a mozzarella stick and brought it to his smirk. "Ow!" His hand flew to his mouth as the pain from hot oil hidden inside the cheese stick seared the roof of his mouth.

"Are you okay, honey?!" Sara panicked. "Drink some of my ice water!"

"Honey?!" Brass laughed even though his friend was writhing in pain.

"Oops." A smiled jittered across Sara's face when she realized she was stroking her significant other's hair. "Busted."

While Gil sucked on an ice cube and Sara blushed, Brass raised his glass. "I'm having the best time."

* * *

"Honey?" Dave Sanders called out when he entered his hotel room. 

"Bath tub!"

Buzzed from the alcohol he had consumed at dinner and in the casino, he shed his clothes and strolled to the bathroom whistling.

"How was dinner?" Jan pointed and laughed when she saw her husband was down to a pair of socks.

"Laughing at my naked body?" he huffed. "It ain't what it used to be, sweetheart, but until it stops making your toes curl, it deserves some respect."

"I was laughing at your socks."

"Oh. I knew that."

Jan pointed at his feet. "See how much you need me. You can't even dress yourself when I'm out of town. You're wearing one brown and one blue. That's not even a respectable black/blue mishap."

Grinning wildly, he stepped into the tub without removing the pair. "Wanna get it on?"

"You popped a Viagra before coming up, didn't you?"

"Aren't Viagra always popped **before **coming up?" he proudly laughed at his joke.

"Just get in the tub, Don Juan."

"Si, si, Senorita!" As he dropped into the water, Dave said, "I just watched my newly out gay son flirt all evening with his repressed closeted cowboy roommate future boyfriend and now I want to get it on with my wife. Does that make me a bad person?"

"Only if you call me Tex and ask me to turn around." She plucked off his now soaked socks.

Shaking with laughter, Dave sunk lower in the suds. "If Nick knew how screwed up his future in-laws are, he'd have second thoughts about having second thoughts about his sexuality, which we know he's having even before he knows."

"So you agree!" Jan cracked up as she turned to recline against her husband's sudsy chest.

"I started counting the number of times he touched Greg during conversations or in passing. I lost track around one hundred and forty-three."

"Okay, now you're exaggerating."

"Barely!"

"I'm tired of guessing, I want my suspicions confirmed."

"Think how Greg feels." Getting comfortable with his wife and the concept of having a gay son, Dave admitted, "I like Nick a hell of a lot more than that insufferable Lacey bitch. I throw-up in my mouth every time I think of that priss almost being part of our family."

"I have the same reaction every time I think of her almost getting my mother's diamond ring." Jan snickered, "We'll get it sized for Nicky when the time comes."

"You know what the **best** part about having a gay son who likes jocks? I **finally **have someone to talk sports with. God, imagine if they really do hook up…I'll have a guy to watch games with on Thanksgiving while you and Greg cook. This could be good, Jan, reeeeeally good." In his best Veruca Salt impression, he whined, "I want a jock son-in-law, and I want him by November!"

After laughing with her husband, Jan's motherly concern surfaced, "All kidding aside, I've had a meal with them five days in a row, and it's hard to watch my son fall harder every day for a guy who may never return his affection. I'm scared for him. I don't want him to get hurt…emotionally or physically."

"I will have my jock son-in-law!" Dave circled his arms around his ever-concerned wife and tenderly whispered in her ear, "Stop being a pessimist. Be a hopeful romantic! Believe that true love conquers all." He repositioned her body and rasped, "Believe in the power of love knowing no boundaries and Brokeback Mountain and Rosie O'Donnell's gay cruise ship of love and…can you feel The Love yet, Jan? Can ya?"

"I don't know about the love, but I can feel the Viagra. God, I curse the man who invented that stupid pill!" After pushing away her drunk and horny husband who never obsessed about anything, Jan rolled her eyes. "Let me get some caffeine first, it's gonna be a long night."

* * *

"Honey?" Brass teased Gil when they were alone in his office. "If you're going to fish off the company pier, you should pick a fish who doesn't blurt." He winked, "Not that I blame you for picking Sara, she's one hell of a catch." 

"I can't believe you thought I was living with Lady Heather." Gil chuckled at the absurdity. "While I find her fascinating, we're hardly couple material." He winked at his friend. "Maybe you should look her up though. Dating a Police Captain would come in handy when she gets into trouble with the law."

"Griss!" Nick whooped from the door. "Glad to have you back, man!"

"Don't hug him!" Jim warned the personal space violator. "He has a back injury and can't handle a Texas Tornado."

"An injury, huh?" Nick thought back to Sara calling Jenni's grandfather about a close friend's injury on the same day Grissom didn't show up for work because he was ill. "How'd you do it?" he asked while reading the assignment slip Grissom had just handed him.

"Slipped on a wet kitchen floor."

Brass elbowed the Texan. "So make sure Greggy does a thorough job when doing the floor."

Standing in the doorway, Catherine did a double take. "I'm sorry…all I heard was you talking to Nick about Greg doing something thoroughly while on the floor. Make that right for me, Jim."

"Mopping, Willlows!" Brass shook his head. "Innocent mopping of the floor."

Draping her arm around Brass's shoulder she teased, "But why was the floor in need of mopping in the first place?"

"You're a real perv," Nick chuckled, feeling unusually generous towards the woman who had been irking him for months. "Maybe now that Warrick's separated from Yoko, we'll see you work out some of that tension that's been buildin'."

To ease the guilt of fishing off the company pier, Grissom waved an assignment paper. "Catherine…find Warrick. You two are heading to the desert. A couple was found dead in a parked car."

Nick promptly coughed **Lover's Lane **into his fist.

"Awwww." Snatching the paper, Catherine winked at the cowboy. "Are you jealous that he's not sending you and Greggy to walk the desert in the dark?"

"Nah." Nick returned the wink and headed for the door waving his assignment slip. "Griss is sendin' me and Greggo to walk the water's edge at Lake Mead! Woo hoo! Here's hopin' I get a kiss in the moonlight!" At the door he deadpanned, "Any of you have some mints to spare?"

Jim tossed his pocket tin of Altoids. "Need a condom just in case you have to kill time waiting for the coroner's office?"

"Thanks, Uncle Jimmy, but…" Nick patted his pants. "I always keep one in my wallet."

"Like uncle, like nephew." Brass gave an approving nod. "Drive safe, young man!"

"Always do!" Nick headed out whistling 'Secret Lovers'.

Gaping at her two friends, Catherine said, "You know…they could be hiding in plain sight, using the jokes as a cover."

"He's screwing with **you**, Catherine," Gil chuckled, "not Greg."

"Who cares, Stokes and Sanders are yesterday's news," Brass wiggled his brows at the woman who thrived on gossip, "I know a far juicier secret."

"What?!" Catherine had to know. "Dish!"

"Don't ask, don't tell!" Brass shouted on the way to the door.

"I have my suspicions!" Catherine yelled at the snickering man's back.

"Don't look at me." Alone with his friend, Grissom shrugged, "I have no idea what he's talking about."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"Hold that thought." Grissom read his incoming text message. "Uh oh…another field assignment, I'm going to have to send Warrick to the desert alone and you to the Motel 7 on Ray Road…sex assault on a female."

Disappointed by the change in assignment, she trudged to the door. "Let me get some caffeine first, it's gonna be a long night."

* * *

**ANs: **

Thanks for reading!

Was it easy to see that Greg is a product of his mother and father from the bathroom scene? LOL…odd behavior, use of nicknames, quirky sex humor, easy acceptance of alternative lifestyles.

The Brass/Gil exchange about Sara and LH was an homage and a way to make the universe right for me LOL

**Maggs**


	16. Chapter 16: Separation Anxiety

**Where You Are**

**Written By: Ms. Maggs / Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 16: Separation Anxiety **

"Dinner was great," Nick remarked while reclining in the Denali. Normally he insisted on driving when working with Greg, but he was so relaxed that he had opted to kick back in the passenger seat instead.

"Yeah, I had a blast," Greg confirmed, still buzzing from the fun.

"Your dad is great." The youngest of seven Stokes kids sighed, "I'm totally jealous of the relationship you two have. My dad was a great provider when I was growin' up, and he loves his kids, but…he's not fun like Dave. He's fourteen years older than your dad, and a real serious guy. He plays with the grandchildren on holidays and stuff, but with us kids it's all political and legal talk."

"My dad works hard," Greg said, "but he believes in playing hard too. Of course nowadays he gets to play and let other people manage the Engineering firm. He picks his projects and spends the rest of his time golfing and traveling on business and pleasure. He just got back from a conference in Turkey. Istanbul sits on a major fault line and geologists predict there will be a major quake there in the not so distant future. My dad went there as a consultant. He said it's a retro-fitters dream, but he opted not to bid on contracts. He used to be money hungry, because he grew up really poor and was determined to make a different life for his family. Building the house in Santa Gabriel, sending me to private school, and surprising my mom with a vacation home in Maui for her fortieth birthday were really major accomplishments for him, but after turning sixty last year and realizing he's set for three lifetimes, he decided to pull back and smell the roses. I really admire him for not being greedy, and my mom deserved to get him back after losing him to the business for twenty five years."

Nick smiled at his buddy. "I guess that makes greed not important to you either, since you're the sole heir to your parents' money, but then again, I already knew that about you, because you wouldn't have taken a 50 pay cut to work in the field." It was comforting to know their moral compasses pointed in the same direction.

"Hell, with my Chem degrees and experience I could be making a fortune working for a research company."

"But instead you've decided to dedicate your life to helping victims." Nick nodded approvingly. "And that's exactly why I like and respect you, Greggo."

Greg reflexively replied in a dreamy voice, "And you doing the same thing with your life is why I like and respect you. You're the reason I wanted to be in the field in the first place. Your passion for the job really impacted me. I'd listen to you talk and want to be out there and experience the rush of solving cases and getting justice for victims. I couldn't wait for the chance and now I'm living the dream…with you." Realizing he sounded incredibly gushy, bordering on lovestruck, Greg covered, "And Sara too. I always admired her drive for nailing bad guys."

"Why'd you have to bring Sara up, dude?" Nick laughed, "My ego was enjoyin' the strokes. I like thinkin' I was solely responsible for motivating you into the field. Sara…pfft."

Greg burst into a smile. "Sorry for ruining the moment."

* * *

"Dinner was great," Sara announced, happy that she had been able to enjoy a meal in public with her man. "Until I outed us that is." She lifted a box marked 'Presentation Materials #5'. "Is this the one you need?" 

"Gil nodded, relieved that the missing box had been located. "There is a silver-lining to Jim busting us. Not only can we can be ourselves around him now, we can take him out with us and eat in public more often."

"Instead of him being our designated driver, he'll be our designated cover."

"Exactly." Since he couldn't bend and lift, Gil continued to utilize his girlfriend. "There are two more boxes in that cabinet." He pointed. "They're marked 'Samples 1 and 2'."

As she walked to the cabinet, Sara said, "I talked to Greg in the locker room before shift. He's really excited for this conference opportunity, and really nervous."

"It's intimidating the first time." Gil thought back to his first disastrous presentation. "I was a bumbling idiot and almost fainted."

"I find it impossible to believe you ever sounded bumbly." Setting the first box on the table, she winked. "Hearing you lecture at Berkeley was when I realized what I wanted to do for the rest or my life. Your passion for the job touched me. I started dreaming of field work and helping victims without voices. That's why I transferred from the Coroner's Office to CSI. A few years later, when you invited me to Vegas," she continued with a smile, "I was thrilled, because it meant working my dream job next to the guy who inspired the dream."

"Really?" With a wink, Gil replied, "I thought you agreed to come here because you were hot for my body."

"Yeah, well, I was hoping we'd be sleeping together eventually," she droned, "I certainly didn't expect to wait six years for the sex. Looking back, I can't believe I did. I should have given up that day you turned me down when I asked you out to dinner."

"You really should have." Standing behind her, he stealthily grazed his fingertips over her back and whispered into her ear, "But I'm thrilled that you didn't. I…"

"Knock knock!" Brass shouted from the door. "I hate to break up the love fest, but I have Marc Wesson in the interrogation room and need Sara with me when I grill him about his wife's disappearance."

"Get your mind out of the gutter." Blushing, Sara hurried for the door. "I was just helping Grissom with his materials since he can't do any heavy lifting."

"Is that what the kids are calling Second Base these days?" Brass laughed at his own joke, "Sorry for ruining the moment."

* * *

"Five days without me," Greg casually remarked to his housemate as they walked the muddy lakeside looking for human remains or evidence of a body dump. "How are you going to survive?" 

"Are you kidding?" Nick shook his head while shining his flashlight at the ground from left to right. "I'll have **our **TV all to myself, I won't have to hear that ridiculous Techno crap you call music, and I won't have to share my beer."

"Okay, if we're being honest, I'll admit to needing a break from country music. It's waaaaay too depressing." Greg laughed, "You know what you get when you play a country song backwards, doncha? You get your girlfriend back, your coon dog back, your truck back…"

"Hey! There are three very important things in my life: A&M, my mama, and Country Music. Don't ever slam them."

"Were those listed in order of importance?"

Nick pondered the question, "It's a tie between A&M and my mama, and then Country Music second."

"And your best friend? Where does he fall in the pecking order?" Greg silently chided himself for asking such an insecure question.

"You are only goin' away for five days, right, G?" Nick quipped to his insecure buddy, "Because it's startin' to feel like you're goin' off to war and wonderin' if I'll be waitin' for you when you get back."

"Uh…" Greg decided to joke away the awkwardness, "Sorry, I don't mean to sound like a stalker, because 'been there, done that', right? No, it's the pre-conference nerves talking. I'm feeling a little insecure and looking for validation anywhere I can get it. Grissom keeps freaking me out saying things like 'you better know your part backwards and forwards, because if you look like an ass, then I'll look like an ass, and I don't like looking like an ass in a packed lecture hall in front of a thousand people. There won't just be forensics students there, Greg, there will be over two hundred and fifty of my colleagues, so you better have your ducks in a row'."

"Grissom does that psych-out BS to everyone the first time. He did it to me, 'Rick, Cath.."

"Did it help?"

"Yeah, it helped me a lot." Nick nodded in confirmation. "It helped me puke my guts out in the bathroom before and after my presentation. Seriously, that man had me a nervous wreck, I'm not kiddin' about the pukin'."

"That's so not what I needed to hear, thanks." His stomach churning, Greg watched his flashlight's beam glide across the reeds and contemplated drowning himself in the lake.

Figuring that his best friend was choking on stomach acid, Nick said, "A great coach doesn't use fear and shame to motivate his players, he builds up their confidence with positive reinforcement, and heavy doses of encouragement and unconditional love. My freshman year of high school I was scared shitless as my first game approached, but Coach Bales took all my fears away in less than sixty seconds. He pulled me aside right as I was about to go under the Friday Night Lights and said 'Stokes, if you go out there and give 80 and score the winning touchdown, I'll be disappointed in you. It truly isn't about winning or losing, it's **how **you play, and if you play with your heart and soul, and then collapse at the end of the game because you gave every ounce of yourself, then I'll be proud of you no matter what the scoreboard says.' He knew that once he had his players trust, and built their confidence…the scoring and winning would follow, and he was right. We were JV State Champs that year."

"I wish Coach Bales was taking me to Long Beach instead of Grissom."

"Sadly, he was killed by a drunk driver during my junior year." Sighing, Nick said, "He was so loved in the community, six thousand people showed up for his memorial service on the football field. Grissom is a smart guy, Greg, and a master of his field, but he isn't a great leader, and he's a pretty crappy supervisor sometimes. Catherine told me that a while back when I when I was walkin' around the lab tryin' my hardest to be his carbon copy. She advised me to stop tryin' to emulate him and be my own man. Those were some wise words right there."

"Yeah," Greg sighed. "His supervisory style is best described as Bipolar. Some days he loves me and other days I think he's seconds away from strangling me even when I'm doing everything right."

Nick chuckled, "I think his sporadic animosity toward you is directly related to your flirtations with Sara."

"I think you may be right."

"If you get cold feet in California before the presentation, don't tell Grissom, his words of wisdom will have your runnin' for the roof." Stopping when he noticed a shiny object in his flashlight's beam, Nick said, "If you get scared, you call my cell, I'll calm you down and build you up, okay? Any time."

"Thanks." Just like that, Greg's stomach stopped rumbling. "I think that's all I really needed to hear."

* * *

"Five days without me," Sara remarked when she returned to help Gil pack his presentation materials. "How will you survive?" 

"It will feel odd." It was three a.m., and since everyone else was out working in the field, Grissom felt comfortable discussing personal matters. "We've been together every day since I returned from my sabbatical."

"That's why it will be so different this time, compared to when you left for Williams." Hearing her significant other say 'sabbatical' aggravated old wounds. "Well, that and because you bothered to tell me you were leaving ahead of time and why." Watching his jaw drop, she said, "Sorry, apparently I'm still subconsciously smarting a little."

"I still am too….from the fact that I totally discounted your feelings at the time, and from what you just said. No, of course this conference doesn't have anything to do with you. I was asked to do this lecture six months ago and I added the extra day on because I'm hooking Greg up with people who will most likely want to publish his paper." His anxiety rising, Gil moved around his desk, taking a seat in his chair. "I guess I thought once I asked you to live with me, the insecurities would disappear."

"Me too," she confessed, "but they're still there and now the stakes are even higher. I don't just lose you, I lose my home."

Baffled by the sudden change of tone, Gil honestly queried, "How the hell did we go from happily packing boxes to worrying about things falling apart?"

"You said the S word."

"I thought the L word I said a few weeks ago would supersede any residual negativity from the S word.

"Me too," she reluctantly admitted, "but I guess I have a little PTSD from your poorly executed S departure. I'm sure over time it will disappear."

"But we're okay about this conference, aren't we? You know that me leaving this time has nothing to do with you, right?"

"Absolutely," she pushed out a smile. "We're good. Great actually. Fantastic."

"The lady doth protest too much."

"Nah, the lady's just overtalking like she always does." Sara returned to packing lecture materials. "Don't worry about it."

"Is that actually how you feel?" he prodded for clarification. "Or in girlfriend talk does it mean I should worry."

"It's means don't worry, just pack."

"Okay." He returned to his box, not sure if he believed her. "Got it."

* * *

"I've got something!" Greg shouted from his position at the water's edge. "Never mind. It's just a piece of wood that looks like a femur. Ugh, we've been out here for two hours." 

"It's a needle in a haystack assignment," Nick grumbled, "and the tip called in is probably bullshit to begin with." Glancing down at the mud covering his waders, he said, "Don't tell your groupies at the conference that the job is this unglamorous. Let them think it's all high tech fun and glitzy crime solving like on the TV shows. That's why eighty percent of the college students are Forensics majors. Little do they know we sometimes spend a good part of our day digging through the garbage and smelling like shit."

"Groupies?" Greg quizzed from ten yards away.

"Oh yeah, Grissom didn't tell you?" Nick's good 'ol boy laugh shot through the night air. "Whenever the conference takes place on a college campus, you get a ton of students who think you're a rock star. They even think Grissom's a rock star, some of 'em even think he's a god. You'll see. He'll even get twenty-one year old girls battin' eyelashes."

Greg visualized the moment. "Eww. That's like Sting getting it on with a teenager."

"Yeah, bring some antacid pills, and just in case you change your strict policy on casual sex, bring lots of condoms." Trudging through the mud he snickered, "It won't just be the co-eds gettin' jiggy either, noooo, those geeks are a horny bunch, man. It's kinda like the Little People and Chubby Club Conventions that come to Vegas. It's a great opportunity to hook up, because they're with their own kind and don't have to worry about feelin' out of place. A guy shows up with a jar of racin' roaches in real life and chicks run screamin' from the room wonderin' where his hands have been, but at a Forensics conference…that's hot, and if your roaches win, you're Brad Pitt."

"Like I needed another reason to be freaked out about going." In need of a drink, Greg started heading for the cooler they had placed with their supplies. "Even if my roaches win, I don't think I'll party like a movie star back in my hotel room."

"Yeah, I didn't think I'd sleep with anyone when I went to my first, but there were some really desperate chicks there and I felt obligated to put them out of their misery." Nick laughed, "They even build a booty call opportunity into the schedule, you'll see. There's a two hour break before resuming for dinner and the evening speakers. That way you can sleep with one person before dinner, have a shower, and then sleep with another person at night without feeling nasty about it."

"Like sleeping with two different people in the same day doesn't automatically make you feel nasty?" Greg rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I know you're making all this booty call stuff up."

"You think so, huh? Then ask yourself this…why would Catherine **volunteer** to go to go to a convention in Toledo? In January no less."

"Good point." Greg walked towards his buddy laughing. "Just to be safe, I'll bring a jar of fast roaches and a box of Trojans."

Surprised by his housemate's sudden attitude change, Nick glanced up. "So you really are gonna amend your casual sex policy for Long Beach?"

Greg shook his head as he sifted through the mud. "I didn't say that."

Nick smiled as he crouched down to bag a beer bottle.

All the blabbering about his buddy bagging babes at past conferences made Greg slip into melancholy, "If I find the love of my life in Long Beach, and we fall into bed, then the sex won't be casual. I'm a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, you know? There are no accidents. So maybe I'm going to be in Long Beach because my soul mate will be there. Then again, knowing my luck this year, my soul mate will be walking in one door as I walk out another and we'll never meet."

"Jeeez, where's all this melodrama comin' from all of a sudden, G?" Nick asked, puzzled by his buddy's spiral into seriousness. "I was kiddin' about the late afternoon booty call break on the schedule. Don't get all worked up. Honestly, I think your problem is, you've gone so long without action that the prospect has you freaked. Did you have like a really horrible experience? Did someone burn you that bad in a relationship? If that's the case, then you shouldn't have waited to bounce back into bed. It's like the old ridin' a bike saying…if you wait too long after a bad fall to get back on, you'll get to scared to try it. Is that what's goin' on with you?"

"I **really **don't want to talk about it," Greg snipped, once again feeling ridiculous for thinking anything would ever happen between them.

"That's a yes."

"Yes, okay, I've been burned twice, not counting the time when Catherine blew up the lab. Happy? I'm hard up, because love has done nothing but bite me in the ass, and I'm gun shy. Now can we please change the subject?"

Ignoring his buddy's wish, Nick moved to work next to his pal and forged on, "Like I told your dad, I think of you as my best friend, you can tell me. Maybe I can help you…"

"**How?!"** Greg scoffed at the offer. "I wouldn't go to a monk for sex tips, and I'm sure as hell not asking you for advice on committed relationships. When was the last time you had a serious relationship, dude? Huh? Would the answer be **never**?"

"That depends on your definition of serious."

"Have you ever told someone you love them?"

"Does my mom count?" Nick answered, trying to lighten the mood.

"Not unless your name is Oedipus." Greg returned to shaking his head and muttering. "Be honest, what's the longest relationship you've ever had? A three day weekend? Or did the planets align in the late 90s and you managed to spend a whole week with the same person."

"No, I've had a much longer relationship than that." Nick chuckled his smart ass reply, "I've loved my mama for thirty six years now."

"Okay, Oedipus, take your squick elsewhere." Greg gave him a shove to confirm his request. "Go! Find your own mud hole."

Not moving, Nick laughingly advised, "You need to get back on the bike, G."

"And you need to stop screwing every slut who will let you."

"Why?" Nick howled with laughter in the moonlight. "They're hard up and I've got a hard on. It's a win-win situation as far as I can tell. What's the problem?"

"The problem is…" Greg caught himself.

"What?"

"Nothing." Greg's nerves built into a laugh that popped from his mouth. "This is exactly the same fight we had three weeks ago."

"Yeah, why is that?" Nick tried to figure it out.

"If you don't know…"

"Enough with the cryptic shit, just say what's on your mind." Nick elbowed his pal. "I promise I won't get mad."

"I think you would."

"Wouldya just tell me already!" Using two hands Nick gave him a shove.

When Greg flopped onto his back in the mud, he yelled, "Nice going! I'm covered in sludge!"

"Sorry! I didn't mean to shove you that hard, G." Nick stood and offered his hand. "Let me help you up."

"Thanks. I'm kind of…" But when Nick leaned forward, Greg used his leg to knock his buddy off balance and send him crashing down to the ground. "HA! I've seen that in the movies. I can't believe it really works."

"You bastard! I can't believe you did that when I was tryin' to help you!"

They sat up at the same time, wiping mud from their faces.

"Are you okay?" Greg asked, feeling guilty when he realized the stunt could have resulted in an injury.

"Yeah, just my ego's bruised," Nick groaned while flicking mud from his hair. "That's like the oldest trick in the damn book. My brother used to do that to me when I was a kid. He'd pretend to get hurt and when I'd run over to help him, he'd take my hand and whip me through the air." Locking eyes with his buddy, Nick huffed, "I can't believe I didn't see that comin'."

His gaze locked on his clueless pal's, Greg quietly replied, "I can, because you don't read me very well." Suddenly feeling something in his eye, he started blinking.

"What's wrong?"

"I got something…I think it's gone under the lid."

Nick tugged off his gloves. "Hold still."

Greg froze as his secret crush moved in close and tugged up his eye lid. "Do you see something?" His heart raced from the proximity of Nick's parted lips. "Uh…"

"Shh, don't move."

When Greg breathed in the scent of Nick's cinnamon chewing gum, a spark of excitement surged through his body.

"There." Nick showed the speck on his finger tip. "Hopefully it didn't scratch your eye up. I had that happen to me once, it hurts like hell." The puzzling look on his buddy's face worrying him, he tapped Greg's cheek. "You okay?"

"You really don't know, do you?" Greg managed to cryptically squeak.

"Know what?"

With Nick's face only inches away, he couldn't tell if his friend's next move would be a kiss or a punch, but he was tired of waiting. "I…I'm done wondering, so um… I'm just going to…"

"Hey!" Nick tracked his dropped flashlight's beam. "Are you…" The fresh angle made all the difference. "I think you're right, everything happens for a reason, even fallin' in the mud."

"Now you're getting it, okay." Greg anxiously chuckled when Nick sat back on his heels in shock, "Honestly, how could you not when…"

"No shit." Nick scrambled to his feet. "It's only fifty yards away." Grabbing the flashlight, he rushed over to the woman's body stuck in the reeds. "Call in a 419, G! And grab your camera!"

"Uh…" When he finally caught up, Greg jumped into action. "Got it!"

* * *

"I've got something!" Sara rushed into the living room as her man was heading for the front door with his luggage. "Something for your bedside table." She presented the 4x6 photo they had snapped of themselves one night after sharing some wine and feeling silly. "You said you wished you had a picture to bring with you. I remembered that we took a few." 

"I love it, it looks like one those pictures taken in a photo booth." Gil gazed at their smiling faces pressed together side-by-side. "Thank you." He snatched the snapshot and placed it securely in his briefcase. "I promise, unlike when I was on S, I'll call you every day."

"You don't **have to** do that." Sara stole one last kiss. "But if you **want to**, then go ahead." Seeing Nick's truck pull up out front, she sighed, "Your co-presenter is here." She knew the plan was for Nick to drop off Greg, who would be riding to Long Beach with Grissom. "Good luck."

"With the conference or surviving four hours in the car with Greg bouncing off the walls and begging to change the radio station?"

"Both." She playfully smacked her man's ass. "Go before they ring the bell."

Grissom walked to the door without looking back.

"Stay away from the groupies!" she warned as he turned the knob. "I used to be one, so I know what they're thinking! They'll be so impressed with your brain, they'll want in your pants!"

He opened the door smirking.

"Remember what I told you, G," Nick reminded his buddy when he parked the truck in front of Grissom's townhouse. "If you freeze up at the lecture podium, just picture everyone in their underwear." Glancing over, he saw Greg was a bundle of nerves. "It'll all work out just fine, you'll see."

"Yeah." Opening the door, Greg replied, "I just need a little time to clear my head." After the near-confession the previous night, he was still unnerved and more confused than ever.

Nick popped the hatch and got out of the truck.

"Ready for our adventure, Charlie Bucket?" Grissom greeted his protégé.

"Yeah, I'm really looking forward to getting away for a while."

Grissom smiled, happy to know his co-presenter was eager. "Have you double-checked your list and…"

"He's got everything and he's gonna do great," Nick confirmed when he arrived at the back of the truck. "Don't worry about Greggo, he's got it goin' on."

"My trunk's open." Gil pointed. "I can't help you lift anything, sorry."

"No, problem, I've got it." Nick grabbed Greg's garment bag and boxes while his buddy grabbed his suitcase and lap top case

Gil glanced up at his living room window and saw two eyes peeking from the blinds. After checking to see the coast was clear, he blew a kiss and then strolled to his car wearing a dopey grin. Loving every minute of the romantic sappiness, he silently rejoiced, _I've got a girlfriend!_

"That's everything," Nick affirmed when he shut Grissom's trunk.

"Let's hit the road!" Gil rubbed his hands together. "My roaches are ready to run."

"Geek fest," Nick coughed into his fist.

Opening the driver's door, Gil droned, "I heard that, Stokes."

"Sorry, Griss, but it's true."

Rolling his eyes, Gil slipped behind the wheel. "Don't just stand there, get in the car, Greg, or I'm leaving you behind."

"Don't! I can't wait to get out of town," Greg remarked while looking directly at his housemate. "I really need a break."

"I'll try not to take that personally," Nick chuckled while feeling strangely concerned by the comment. "Good luck, buddy." He stepped forward with open arms and pulled Greg in for a bear hug. "You're gonna do great."

Greg thought about not returning the hug, but it felt too good to pass up. "Thanks." He wrapped his arms around Nick, returning the seemingly platonic affection.

When the embrace was returned, Nick breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm sure those guys will agree to publish your paper. You've been workin' so hard on it, how could they not, right?"

"I…I don't know." His body pressed against the man of his fantasies, Greg could barely form words.

"I do." Nick closed his eyes and strengthened his grip. "I've read your paper, it's great."

"That really means a lot…thanks." With his eyes clamped shut, it was easy to pretend there was more to Nick's touch than just a friendly hug. "Don't take what I said about wanting to get out of town personally." Squeezing tighter, Greg breathed deep and filled his nose with the familiar scents of Nick's soap and after shave, already missing them and him. "I…I'm a little out of it, I'm sorry."

"It's alright, it's alright." He pulled in a choppy breath. "Lately I'm…I'm feelin' a little off myself." Suddenly aware of how long he had been holding his friend, Nick abruptly ended the hug. "Uh…" After a few awkward moments of silence, he said, "Call me, okay. Because I want to…because you know I'll want to hear about all the action comin' your way."

"Right." When Greg saw how affected Nick was he knew something was there. He didn't want to leave, but he didn't know what to say. Banking that absence really does make the heart grow fonder, he took a deep breath and backed away. "I'll see you next week, Cletus."

"Yeah." Nick raised his right hand as he walked backwards. "Bye."

"Bye."

Leaning over to clear the passenger seat, Gil had been drawn to watch the two men through the passenger side mirror. "Wow." Catching the black writing on the bottom of the glass, he shook his head. **'Warning – Objects in Mirror Are Closer than They Appear.' **_No kidding, their goodbye seems a hell of a lot more erotic than mine and Sara's. _The ring of his cell phone startled him. "Grissom." When he heard his girlfriend yell 'Are you watching the boys say goodbye?! I'm watching from the window' he whispered, "Nick's eyes were closed, could you see Greg's?" When she informed him they were closed too, he chuckled, "Looks like Catherine is right, but let's not tell her. Got to go."

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Greg breathlessly announced when he dropped onto the passenger seat.

"It's okay. I had a phone call." Gil glanced over, noting the flush on his co-worker's cheeks. "Ready?"

"So ready," Greg sweetly laughed while buckling up for the ride and watching Nick walk away. _It's the wait that's killing me. _

* * *

**ANs: **

Thanks SO MUCH for the comments on the last chapter. It was the most well-received yet!

Thanks to KJT for editing so quickly and to my hubby for the chapter title!

**Maggs **


	17. Chapter 17: Pillow Talk

**Where You Are  
****Written By: Ms. Maggs / Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 17: Pillow Talk **

"This place is great," Greg enthusiastically told his boss as they walked the path to their rooms at The Coast Hotel in Long Beach. "We're right on the bay, the city lights are **awesome** and I love how the bridge is illuminated with colors like that, isn't it cool? I think it's really cool." He pointed to the old ship in the distance. "Have you ever been on the Queen Mary? I have a bunch of times. My dad keeps his boat in Santa Monica and when I was a kid, we'd sail here to go to the aquarium and then we'd head out to Catalina Island. Have you been to the aquarium? It's great. What about Catalina Island? I love that place, haven't been there in years though, have you? I really miss California," he sighed, "I don't know that I miss it until I'm here and then I miss it. What about you? Because I…"

"Stop talking!" Gil ordered, counting the seconds until he was away from his yammering employee. "How can I possibly answer your questions if you keep talking? You've been talking ninety miles an hour since we left Vegas. That's over four hours of non-stop talking. I went to the McDonalds Drive-Thru and bought you a ton of food hoping that it would shut you up, but you even talked with your mouth full. I honestly think you spoken more since we started this journey than I do in an average week."

"Sorry." Greg gulped a hefty dose of salt-scented air and explained, "I overtalk when I'm really excited or nervous, and I'm both, excited and nervous…big time."

"What are you excited and nervous about exactly?" Gil curiously queried, while certain he wouldn't get an honest answer.

"Duh, our meeting with the editors of The National Criminology Journal tomorrow to see what they thought of my submission; and I'm excited and nervous about the conference starting tomorrow evening and then presenting for the first time the day after that, and besides all that, I have some personal stuff going on. I'm waiting for my Dad to call and say everything is finalized with Jenni's guardianship, because it means a lot to my mom and besides that…" _I'm in love!_ His whole face spread into a smile, "I really can't say."

_Good, because I really don't want you to tell me you're crazy about Nick._ "Good night." Gil resumed walking for his room.

"Good night? Wait!" Greg chased after him down the path. "Aren't we going to grab some dinner?"

"I'm grabbing it off my room service menu and then passing out." Gil reminded the hyper lovestruck nutjob, "Normally we would just be waking up, remember? But we're adjusting to a daytime schedule. That means I'm eating dinner and going to bed by ten p.m."

"Oh." Greg's excitement faded. "Okay, yeah, that makes sense. I'll um…see you in the morning then. Nine a.m. in the lobby sound good?"

Feeling like he just kicked a puppy, Gil caved, "Fine. Just give me an hour to shower and catch up with voicemail and email, and then we'll go out for dinner."

"Really?" Greg lit up, thrilled that he wouldn't have to eat alone. "Great!"

"You wouldn't happen to have a tranquilizer of some sort with you, would you?"

"Actually, yeah, I do. I brought some Valium with me just in case I have trouble sleeping because of the abrupt schedule change."

"Good, take one as soon as you get to your room and by the time we get to the restaurant you should be mellow enough to let me get a word in edgewise."

"Okay," Greg laughed as he walked next to his crusty boss. "Here's my room." He pointed.

"Yes, and I'm right next door, so please don't blast your TV."

"No problem, Dad,"

"I'll meet you in the lobby at seven-thirty," Gil droned, already regretting his pity offer to have dinner together. "Don't forget the Valium."

"I promise to do drugs, Dad!" Greg laughed his way into the room. "Ooh, this is nice." His luggage had already been brought up by the bellman and he promptly retrieved his pill bottle from his toiletry bag. "One chill pill down the hatch." He cracked open a bottle of water from the mini bar and swallowed the tablet. "Bed looks comfy." He dropped onto it. "Mmm, yeah." He crashed back against the pillows and pondered Nick's hug for the hundredth time. _It was __**definitely **__more than just a hug. It wasn't my imagination. I don't care if he hugs people all the time, he doesn't hug them like__** that**__! That hug went into overtime and there was extra squeezing. Why do I keep calling it a hug anyway? It wasn't a hug, it was __**an embrace**__…a lingering embrace actually, because he didn't want to let go. And when he did let go, the look on his face…priceless! It was so totally more than just a hug, that's why he looked so unnerved. It's starting to hit him. That glass house of denial he's been living in for decades is starting to crack, and when it finally shatters, I'll be right there to help him pick up the pieces and deal with the drama that I'm sure there's going to be, because a guy that repressed…it won't be pretty, and he's not even a calm guy to begin with, he's emotional and has exploded under pressure on more than a few occasions. _

Lunging for TV remote on the nightstand, he saw the phone. _No! I can't call, he'll still be sleeping. But he said I could call any time if I was nervous. But it's not a presentation day, you don't have anything to be nervous about. Right, right. _He grabbed the remote. _And he can't miss me if I call right away. He needs to miss me and wonder why he misses me, which will put a few more cracks in the glass. So, no calling! None! Zip! Zero! No calling! Until tomorrow anyway, and technically tomorrow begins at midnight, and that's the start of shift, so I can very legitimately call to follow up on the Jane Doe from the lake. Cool._

Just as the calling plan was finalized, Greg's cell phone rang. After pulling it from his pocket, he flipped it open and saw it was Nick calling. "Ha!" He pressed the send button to answer. "Miss me already, Cletus?"

"No," Nick chuckled in reply, "I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep, so I decided to pay bills and balance my checking account. I wanted to let you know that the friggin' cable company raised their broadband rates again, so it's gonna be an extra ten bucks starting next month."

Greg stared at the phone as he laughed into his palm. _That is the__** lamest**__ reason to call me! Really, you couldn't come up with something better than that?_ "So I don't have to include the extra cash in my utilities check to you until next month, right?"

"Right."

"So why did you have to call me right now to tell me? You could have waited and told me when I got back next week."

After a long pause Nick answered, "Hey, how's the weather out there? I bet it's kinda chilly once the sun goes down, huh?"

_So busted!_ "Yeah." Greg rolled onto his side. "Sweater weather." _Good for snuggling and speaking of snuggling…maybe we should talk about that hug today, huh? What was that about? _"Good thing I packed warm clothes."

Nick chuckled, "Yeah, I noticed your favorite Aggie sweatshirt was gone from its hook by the front door."

"I'm wearing it right now as a matter of fact. It looks good with the new pair of jeans my mom gave me this week." _And really shouldn't the fact that I wear your sweatshirt all the time be a HUGE clue? The fact that you like me wearing it certainly is. It's a subconscious show of possession before you can consciously admit you want me to be yours. _"Now that we've established what I'm wearing, what are you wearing, Cletus?" he joked. "Just kidding."

"Yeah, I was gonna say, good thing no one is listenin', because they'd think we're havin' phone sex."

"I'm sure that's what Grissom is doing next door with Sara. He told me he needed an hour to make phone calls and shower."

Nick laughed, "Yeah, one phone call to Sara and then a shower to clean himself up after."

"Are you trying to make me nauseous before dinner?"

"Sorry." Nick asked, "On the drive over, did ya get any confirmation out of Griss about shacking up with Sara?"

* * *

"This place is great," Gil informed his lover as he lay on the bed staring at the ceiling. "I always stay here when I come to Long Beach. We should come here together. They have a wonderful aquarium." 

"A real hotel in Long Beach and a nice aquarium sounds a hell of a lot better than our little stay at the no-tell motel in Kingman."

"Please don't remind me of that nightmare."

"How's your back after the drive?"

"Killing me. As soon as I got to my room, I stripped down to my boxers, popped a Percocet, and splayed myself over that massaging back pad my Physical Therapist recommended I bring. Hopefully I'll feel better in a half hour or so."

"Thanks for the visual," Sara chuckled, "but if that's your attempt at initiating phone sex, I have to tell you…it's not working."

After laughing with his lover, Gil admitted, "I've never had phone sex. Have you?"

"It's highly overrated."

"That's a yes." He immediately imagined Sara having hot and heavy phone love with a hunk twenty years his junior. "I won't bother trying to compete with the memory."

"Aww, I'm sure you'd be much better at it, for one…you have a very sexy phone voice."

"I do?" The fifty year old perked up. "I've always loved your phone voice, it's raspy yet smooth."

"We can't try it sober though." Sara teased, "How about on the third night, once we've gotten good and lonely, you have a few cocktails during the pre-dinner break and come back to your room. I'll drink a few beers waiting for you to call, and then we'll give it a shot."

"I was always under the impression that phone sex had to be spontaneous. I thought it was about two people who miss each other calling to talk and the conversation becomes playful and then takes a decidedly sexual turn that leads to one or both of them engaging in self-gratification while pretending it's really the other person doing it to them?"

"Wow. That's the most clinical description of phone sex I've ever heard."

"But is it right?"

"Put a glass up to the wall and see if that's how it's working next door."

* * *

"Griss picked the hotel, so I was worried," Greg informed his housemate while rolling onto his back with his cell phone pressed to his ear. "But it has a great view of the bay, and the bed is super comfortable." 

"I hate when I go somewhere and find out I'll be sleepin' on a bed of nails, or if their pillows and comforter is crap, that's the worst."

"It must be harder for you to stay in hotels, because you have all that super-deluxe bedding at home." Greg knew Nick's mother had spent a fortune on high quality stuff when Nick couldn't sleep after the abduction. "I can't even see you when you're sleeping, it's like you're buried in clouds."

"Yep, I'm there right now and it's heaven."

"I thought you were in your home office paying bills?" Greg probed. _So busted!_

"That was like twenty minutes ago, G. I finished my banking and crawled back into bed about around the time you were talkin' about The Queen Mary and your family trips to Catalina Island. You're like the only person I know who is talkative after taking a Valium."

"Doh! I had no idea I was boring you to tears for that long, sorry."

"I don't mind, really. You're a good storyteller, and a good salesman, because after listenin' to you, I really want to take a boat to Catalina Island."

"We could go," Greg merrily replied as the Valium kicked in, "I can borrow my dad's boat anytime, I usually take her out whenever I visit."

"Seriously? I had no idea you had access to a boat. "

"She's totally tricked out too," Greg stared at the ceiling, visualizing the trip. "On the island, I could take you on my favorite hike, show you the botanical gardens and the bison."

"I love hiking, don't get to do it nearly enough. What about mountain bikes?"

"Yeah, they rent them."

"Sweet."

"There's a restaurant that I know you'd love. They have a huge patio outside so you can dine al fresco. They have a Surf and Turf that melts in your mouth. It's a filet with four jumbo shrimp on top and they drizzle Beurre Blanc over it."

"Mmm…you're making me want it right now."

"Am I?" The Valium seeping into his voice, Greg dreamily asked, "You wanna go to Catalina Island with me, Cletus?"

"Yes," Nick answered without hesitation.

Stunned by the reply, Greg bolted up in bed. "Really?" He clutched a pillow for support.

"Yeah, the sooner the better, G, because I could really use a little time away from this messed up city and the people in it. I think livin' here is killin' me a little more every day."

"Great, um…my dad will be flexible on the boat, so we don't have to worry about that."

"Okay, cool, I'll take a look at the schedule when I go in tonight and see about makin' trades to free us up. I'm excited, this will…"

"Wait…wait…wait." Certain it was too good to be true, Greg warily asked, "Are you excited about this trip because you're planning on stowing babes on board to surprise me? Because this isn't a booty call boat, it's my family's and I won't be amused if you bring some trampy…"

"No girls allowed."

Greg gripped the phone tighter. "Really?"

"Yeah, I want to relax and be myself, not worry about entertainin' a stranger I have nothin' in common with. I want to be comfortable, and lately I only feel comfortable with…it's like you're the only person who…" After a long pause, Nick quietly said, "I just want to be with you."

While strangling an innocent bed pillow, Greg stammered, "Um…can you…I just want be really clear here…when you say you want to be with me, do you mean on Catalina Island, or do you want to **be** with me, as in…"

"I have to go," Nick abruptly announced.

"No! Wait!" Greg panicked, fearing his buddy misunderstood and thought he was disgusted by the thought. "It's okay! Really it's more than okay,** way** more, it's what I…"

"I have to go."

"No, no don't!" Greg rejoiced, "I've been waiting for..."

"Shut your friggin' mouth, Sanders!" Nick snapped, "I don't want to hear it! Just stop talking! **Stop!** Jesus Christ…I said I have to go. Which part of **I have to go** don't you understand?!"

Feeling terrible for pushing, Greg frantically apologized, "I'm sorry, I heard you the first time and you're right, I should have listened. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I won't say anything. If you want to talk again, call me back, but if you don't, that's cool, I won't call you, okay? I promise. Will that work? Is that okay? Are we good?" According to his cell, the call was still active, so he waited. "I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Nick finally replied in a shaky voice, "I'm sorry for yelllin', I just really have to go."

"I understand, I do, really I do. Go."

"Bye."

"Bye," Greg replied after the abrupt click. _Oh…my…God._

* * *

Nick's cell phone slipped from his hands as he rushed for the bathroom. "Noooo," he moaned, clutching his forehead. "Noooo." Gasping for air, he dropped to his knees and vomited into the toilet bowl. Luckily, with his stomach in knots for the last twelve hours, he hadn't been able to eat much. 

Once the guilt-induced purge was over, he fell back and sat against the wall. It felt like a dream. Was it? Maybe **everything** was. Did that conversation even just happen? Had he really just agreed to run off to Catalina Island with Greg? Did he really even hug his best friend that morning like he was going off to war? Had he honestly felt the urge to kiss his buddy as they sat in the mud at Lake Mead the previous night with mouths only inches apart? Did he really secretly brush his housemate's cheek while he slept on the couch the other day, and did his whole body really ignite? Had he truly awakened in a sweat a half hour ago from a dream about falling into bed with a man? Had he really uttered those sappy words to Greg? _I just want to be with you._ Did he only want to be with Greg? Did he mean just on Catalina Island? Or as a couple too? As lovers? As life partners with two kids and a retriever?

When he realized the answer to every question posed was yes, tears spilled from his eyes. "No."

All those years of hiding, lying and suppressing, all that work. Useless! He had managed to keep the urge under control for thirty-five years, never once slipping, never once acting on a forbidden desire. But suddenly it felt like he was on a sinking ship, and the faster he bailed out the water, the quicker more poured in. "No, no, no."

It was supposed to be **easier **once Greg left that afternoon. The next five days were supposed to be a reprieve, but as soon as he said goodbye in Grissom's driveway, everything got substantially worse, not better. "I can't believe I sniffed his freakin' pillow!" And now that he thought about it, he had the overwhelming urge to do it again. "Shit!"

On his way to Greg's room, he considered detouring and knocking on his neighbor Tisha's door, because maybe it would only take **one more** woman to tip the scales. Standing in the hallway he laughed at the idea of a washed up showgirl being able to accomplish what a thousand other women couldn't and marched straight into his gay buddy's room.

Dropping onto Greg's bed, he buried his head in the pillow and cried, "I can't." He thought of the ultimate price he'd have to pay if his secret ever got out…the loss of his family. There was no need to guess about where they stood on the issue. He had heard the jokes and stories his family members told, the derogatory words and names they called gay men who were in their Dallas political and legal circles. His sisters would be disappointed and distant, but he knew his brother would stop speaking to him, and as much as he hated the prick, he didn't want to lose him forever. His mother would never be able to hold him or look him in the eyes again, and he knew Judge Stokes would declare him guilty of a mortal sin and ask him to leave the place he had called home for eighteen years and never come back. No, he couldn't hurt them that way, because nothing was stronger than his love for his family. Nothing!

Except the smell of Greg's pillow, which he compulsively kept sniffing in between sobs.

"No," he continued to repeat like a mantra, wishing it was really how he felt. Since he was thirteen he had been praying for his aching heart and starving body to stop craving what it shouldn't want. But no amount of prayer, wishful thinking, hot dates with loose women, or hardcore hetero sex made a difference. Nothing!

But at the moment, the smell of Greg's pillow was rocking his world.

"No!" He pulled his face away from the heavenly rectangle of down feathers and shook his head. It was hopeless. He had been earnestly trying to make the feelings go away since puberty, ever since he caught himself staring at Bobby Millhouse in the locker room and fantasized about going to Second Base. But try as he might to eradicate the twisted primal urge that made him sick to his stomach, it was still there.

And so was Greg's pillow, so he took one more sniff.

"No, no, no." Glancing down he saw the evidence of his arousal and knew…he liked boys, and that was never going to change. It didn't matter that he wanted to be normal, or that it would be easier, or safer, or that it would save him from the dreaded eternal hellfire that Pastor Sweeny had lectured him about in Sunday School, or keep him from losing his family. He couldn't make it go away. It lingered.

Like the decadent aroma of Greg's pillow in his nostrils.

"No!" He carefully placed the pillow back in its proper spot, so he wouldn't get busted. "Like he doesn't know?!" he snarked at himself. "I just friggin' agreed to dine under the stars on Catalina Island with him for pete's sake! He's probably online pickin' a china pattern while his mother is out interviewin' surrogates!" The jig was up. Way up.

And so was a certain piece of his anatomy. "Dammit!" he barked upon seeing the bulge in his boxers. The last pillow sniff had proven to be too much. "This is really the last thing I needed to deal with right now." As Grissom would say – the evidence never lies, and this piece of evidence was rearing its ugly head all too often lately. He thought of Greg constantly, and not in ways he'd be comfortable discussing in mixed company, or anyone's company. He couldn't even discuss it with himself, because all the things he wanted to do with his good buddy were taboo, wrong, forbidden, abnormal, messed up, unnatural, sinful, gross, and/or squicky!

Just like the urge to keep sniffing Greg's pillow for example. Which he suddenly felt compelled to do just one more time.

"No!" He successfully thwarted the sniff by retreating into the closet. It wasn't a planned move, and once there he couldn't help but laugh at the irony. "I'm hiding in the closet." Just like that his tears were back. He had been hiding in the closet his whole life and he wasn't going to let Greg push him out without a fight. "Damn you, Sanders! I never should have invited you in!"

Leaving the closet, he went to the bathroom determined to push past the feelings swamping him. He turned on the faucet, certain that a few cold splashes of water would cleanse him and renew his willpower. "Better already." He reached for a hand towel and dried his face. "Much better." Looking into the mirror at his reflection, which seemed to be laughing its ass off at him, he heard his subconscious say _Catalina Island is lovely this time of year, you really should go have some fun. Come on, you deserve a break, Nicky, you've been working far too hard. Go see the botanical gardens, ride that mountain bike you asked Greg about, eat some of the yummy shrimp covered in Beurre Blanc, and then when the sun goes down…rip that Aggie sweatshirt off your little buddy's body and jump his bones like you've been dying to do for years, because you are gay! Say it with me…gay! Tex, you're so gay you could play the cowboy in the Village People. G-A-Y gay!" _

"No!" He dashed out of the room, no longer on speaking terms with his subconscious. Maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe he was being paranoid. Maybe Greg didn't suspect a thing.

* * *

"He wants me!" Greg excitedly told his mother as he thrashed on his bed. "**Just **me! His exact words were...I just want to be with you." 

"Oh!" Jan shrieked. "Oh my God! Hold on, let me get your father to pick up on the extension. Dave! Dave! Pick up the phone, Nicky wants Greg!"

"Yeah." Completely absorbed in a fog of Valium and love, Greg dreamily repeated his mother's words, "Nicky wants Greg."

"Your father is coming, sweetheart."

"Uh." Staring at the wall behind him, Greg snickered, "From the sound of things, I'd say Grissom is too."

* * *

"Done," Gil panted into the phone when he regained speech and sight capabilities. "Oh God, that was…so good." 

Sara purred in reply, "Mmm, my thoughts exactly. Your scientific definition of phone love was spot on, Mr. Wizard, and I do believe that spontaneity is the key ingredient. The other time I tried it with the loser who shall remain nameless, it wasn't nearly as good. This was hot. Red hot."

"Let's hear it for aural stimulation," the fifty year old scientist sighed. "It's comforting to know that I can turn you on with words since my body is falling apart."

"Aww."

_**Keep it down in there, you pervert! **_

Gil glanced at the wall behind him. "Greg heard me."

"Eww!"

Wearing a mile-wide grin, Gil replied, "Yes, how appalling." _Ha! Take that, young Sanders! I've still got it._

* * *

**ANs: **

I love staying at The Coast Hotel in Long Beach because it's a great location and very comfy and clean BUT they're walls are super thin, that's not an exaggeration in this story. It's the only hotel where I've been called to turn the TV down or heard someone getting sick in the room next door. It's a great place to stay as long as you don't get the wrong neighbors LOL

Is anyone still wondering about Nick after this chapter? Sadly, as some of you suspected from the hints (and anvils) I had been dropping, he's a very tortured soul. That was a difficult scene to write, so if you have thoughts on it that you'd like to share, I'd love to hear them.

I tried to end on a happier note after the angst. Greg and Jan rejoicing followed by Gil and Sara rejoicing LOL

**Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts on the chapter! **

**Maggs **


	18. Chapter 18: The EX Factor

**Where You Are  
****Written By: Ms. Maggs / Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 18: The EX Factor**

"Jeez, who peed in your Cheerios?" Catherine asked Nick after he blasted a cop at the tape. They were only an hour into their shift and she could tell it was going to be a long night.

"Aren't you sick and tired of those clowns not doin' their jobs?" he grumbled while marching towards the two-story home they had been sent to process. "The guy was standin' right there as a reporter ducked under the tape for pictures."

"He's an overwhelmed rookie, cut him some slack."

"Yeah, well…when you get nabbed at the scene because a cop takes a break, your tolerance for screw ups goes way down. Lettin' people under the tape, walkin' off when they're supposed to be watchin' our backs, not clearin' a scene properly. Forget what happened to me, a recent one is the showgirl murder scene. Sara found a dancer alive under a bed. Instead of a dyin' girl, it could have been the killer and Sara could be dead right now. And what about the time the cops didn't check the basement in little Cassie's home? Luckily it was filled with marijuana plants and not killers or bombs since they had given us the all-clear. That shit pisses me off and it should piss you off too. Lindsay doesn't need to lose her mother because some cops are too lazy to do their jobs."

Catherine smiled at her tense co-worker, "How long will Greg be gone?"

The mention of his buddy's name rattled him. "Five days starting today, why?"

She winked, "I wanted to know how long it would be until your good mood returns."

"Hey, did you see some action yesterday, Willows?" he deflected, forcing a laugh from his mouth. "Because you're in a very relaxed and happy mood today."

"Got all the way to second base," she snickered while tugging on booties outside the home's front door. "It was hot. Stopping at second made me feel sixteen again." When she saw Nick's look of disbelief, she corrected, "Okay, okay, fourteen."

"That I'd believe."

Since they had a track record for speaking frankly over the years, she shared, "Surely you remember the feeling, Nicky. Parents out for the night and you're on the living room couch watching a thriller movie in the dark with the one you love."

"Yeah."

"Good times, huh?" Alone on the dark front porch, Catherine decided to put Nick's sexuality to the test with an arousing tale, "We'd always start off sitting next to each other on the couch and a few minutes into the movie, the boy would pull me close and whisper sweet nothings in my ear. We'd gradually sink into the cushions until we were horizontal, watching the movie like two spoons. A few minutes of close contact and the boy would start to squirm. He'd rock his hips forward, I'd push my booty backwards, and once we found our rhythm, we'd grind ourselves into a frenzy." Cutely wrinkling her nose, she said, "I was a terrible tease, so I'd let him knock on my backdoor for a while, before turning around with a naughty grin. That's when the kissing would start…frantic, sloppy smooches reluctantly interrupted by gasps for air. In the breathy voice of a virgin I'd eventually say, 'I don't go all the way'. The guy would be bummed and suggest 'We can use our mouths.' Not ready to take that step, I'd reply 'Just hands.' The next sixty seconds would be a blur of tossed shirts, popped buttons, quick zip downs, and flying underwear." Fanning herself, Catherine nostalgically sighed, "A few minutes later we'd be panting in each other's faces, sweaty from the rush of our bodies going over the edge in perfect harmony."

Nick gulped while desperately trying to block the sinful fantasy of sitting next to Greg on the couch and ending up in mutual ecstasy. Never before had he been so incapable of ridding his mind of forbidden desires. Only Greg had been able to penetrate his conscious and stake a claim.

Chuckling she added, "If a guy handed me his t-shirt to clean my hand, I went out with him again, if not…he became my ex-boyfriend."

"That's um…quite an interesting boyfriend test," he said while laughing at the memory of refusing to let a girl use his Aggie t-shirt.

Tapping her friend's face with her palm, Catherine sweetly said, "We grow up and forget all that horny teenage fun. We start thinking of full-on sex as the be all end all, but a good tease on the couch followed by hot and heavy petting really rocks your world when you're with the right person. I'm done with one night stands." _Winding up drugged and almost raped helped me come to that decision._ "I'm going to try dating the way I always wished I had...taking it one step at a time with a decent guy, hoping for a slow burn to something special."_ And it doesn't get more special than Warrick Brown. _She could still taste the goodbye kiss he had given her when he left the couch the previous night,

"A slow burn to somethin' special," Nick parroted. "I like the sound of that." It felt like what had been happening between him and Greg until last night when his impatient buddy pushed him out of his comfort zone instead of letting things continue at a snail's pace. He had almost called back a dozen times since abruptly ending their phone call. He knew Greg was under a lot of stress because of his paper, and the presentation, and he felt terrible for adding to his burden. Now that his shock over saying yes to Catalina Island had died down along with his nausea, all he could think about was Greg's frantic apology at the end of the call and the vulnerability in his voice. Above anything else, he knew his buddy was just trying to be a caring, supportive friend. _That's it, I'm callin'. _After checking his watch, he realized it was too late now. _He has a big day tomorrow. He needs his rest. That Valium probably kicked in soon after we hung up. I'll wait 'til tomorrow and call to wish him good luck before his meeting._

"Nicky!" Catherine snapped her fingers in front of her daydreaming co-worker's face. "I wanted to give you a pleasant fantasy to escape into while we're inside scraping up brain matter, not lose you to a daydream."

"Is that why you said all that?" Already tortured by an ungodly backlog of unfilled fantasies, the repressed man sucked in a dose of night air and droned, "Thanks a lot."

* * *

"Someone sure needs a little Snap, Crackle and Pop in their cereal bowl this morning," Greg announced when Grissom trudged out of his hotel room and slammed the door. "Are you always this grumpy when you start your day?" _Poor Sara, but that's what she gets for not picking Greg Sunshine Sanders. Her loss will be Nick's gain one day…hopefully…if he's still talking to me. God, I'm such an idiot! _He checked his watch. _Wow, I went two whole minutes without obsessing over my stupidity, that's an improvement. _He decided to lift his spirits by tweaking his boss, "So, uh…why so glum, chum? From the sounds coming from your room last night, I was sure you'd be happy this morning. What happened? Did you lose the phone number for the Hot Babe Hotline, or did your Pay-Per-View Porn end prematurely?" 

"None of the above, smart ass. Our best racer went belly up last night."

The jokester's heart skipped a beat. "Not Melvin I hope."

"No, **Carl**." Grissom lamented, "He was our best shot at a blue ribbon."

Greg breathed a sigh of relief. "I think you're underestimating Melvin's ability. He's been pacing himself, saving his best race for when it counts, you'll see."

Walking from their remote building toward the hotel's main area, Grissom huffed, "You have no idea how humiliating it is to get your ass kicked at one of these races. They specifically hold them on the first night, just so the winner can enjoy bragging rights the rest of week. Remember, Greg…most of us geeks don't have sports victories in our past, so we're living vicariously through our Gromphadorhina Portentosa. "

"Believe in Melvin, Griss. I'm choosing to be optimistic," Greg encouraged, trying his new mantra on for size, "I know it's gonna happen for us." _So what if Nick hasn't called back in over fourteen hours. That's not necessarily a bad sign. He's probably just swamped at work. _Walking to breakfast with his roach grieving boss, he resumed silently cursing himself for pushing the issue last night. _But more likely, he's avoiding me. Dammit! If I only hadn't probed after he said he wanted to be with me. He wasn't ready to talk that openly. I __**knew**__ that, but I still had to open my big fat mouth and scare the crap out of him. I talked past the close of the deal! Good thing I'm a scientist instead of a salesman. Ugh, if only I could take back those words._

Walking down the path from Building C, Grissom saw the first of many conference colleagues, his archrival Ben Casteel, a prominent Entomologist from Los Angeles._ Ugh, if I have to hear that asshole bragging about his guest appearances on Court TV __**and**__ his blue ribbon roaches for days, I'll wish I had gone deaf. Why'd you have to die, Carl? Why?!_

_Why did I have to push?_ Watching a happy couple stroll by the water's edge holding hands, Greg's stomach knotted. _Nick's probably freaked out thinking I asked him to go to Catalina Island so we could screw 24/7. He probably thinks I'll try to jump his bones every time he sits on the couch to enjoy a ball game now. This is why we need to talk! I want to tell him I understand this is a huge deal for him, and assure him it's a huge deal for me too. I know we could work it out if we talked it over. But I can't call when I promised I wouldn't. _

_No way!_ Gil cringed when he saw his old flame, Dr. Lucy Wimberly, in the distance. _It's nine a.m. and the day is already shit._ He stealthily used Greg's body to shield him. _I didn't know __**she**__ was coming to this conference._ Although they hadn't slept together in well over a decade and hadn't seen each other in three years, he still felt as angry. As livid as the day he walked into the hotel room they were sharing at the National Forensics Conference and found her on her knees pleasuring Arnie Linkbaum, Ph.D.Professionally, he respected the woman as a leader in Forensic Anthropology, but personally, he believed she was a nasty, self-serving bitch. _I should have brought Sara. Lucy's fifty and I'm sure as vain as ever. Imagine that preening bitch's reaction to seeing me with my girlfriend, a woman fourteen years her junior. She'd be livid, and maybe for once she'd stop looking down her nose at me. Maybe I should call Sara. _

Checking the display of his cell for the hundredth time that morning, Greg spiraled deeper into despair._ We were together for exactly seventeen seconds before I __**had**__ to ask for clarification and ruin everything. God, I'm such a loser. _He released a tortured groan. _Whoever said it was better to have loved and lost was a sadomasochist. I've been on the losing end three times and it sucks!_

While hiding from Lucy, Gil noticed a man about a fifty yards away gaping at Greg. "Hey, do you know that man over there in the light blue polo shirt and khakis?" When he didn't get an answer, Gil gave his employee a shove. "Greg, I said, do you know that guy?"

"Huh?" Peeling his eyes off the happy couple taking pictures by the water, Greg asked, "What guy? Where?"

"Never mind, he just went into a building." Gil turned to see what was behind them. "It really looked like he was staring you down, but with the bay and the boats in back of us, I realize now he was probably looking at something else."

"Like when there's a clock over your head, but you think everyone is looking at you because you don't know it's there?"

"Exactly."

Greg sighed, "Or maybe the Clark County Greg Sanders Hate Club phoned a few friends in Long Beach when they heard I was coming to town."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to worry you." Seeing the fear building in his employee's eyes, Gil tried to help. "He was Caucasian if that helps you relax."

"It's sad and embarrassing to admit, but it does."

Grissom patted his anxiety-prone protégé on the back and decided to make his day a little sooner than expected. "You wanna know a secret?"

"Sure, why not?" Greg answered with the enthusiasm of a man about to have root canal.

"Your paper is being published."

"What?" Greg asked in confusion, "Seriously?! How do you know?"

"I spoke with one of the editors last night. He said, quote 'it's the strongest submission we've received in a year' end quote." Gil cracked a proud smile. "Well done, Greg, you're published, and I'm very proud of you." The joy in the young man's eyes reminded him of the happiness he felt when he saw his name on a byline at age twenty-five. "We'll celebrate after you hear it officially, okay? How does a trip to the aquarium and lunch sound?"

"Cool! Yeah, I'd love that, thanks."

"I thought you might."

Greg's goofy joyful laugh attracted the attention of passersby. "I was about to hug you, but I know you hate PDAs."

Thinking back to the time spent in Greg's hospital room, Grissom replied, "You've had a rough year, so I'll make an exception." He allowed an embrace and responded with a fatherly pat. "I told you not to worry, didn't I?"

"Well if it isn't Dr. Gil Grissom!" Lucy Wimberly called out. "How the hell are you, Bugsy?"

"Bugsy?" Greg chuckled.

_Damn. I forgot I was hiding from her. _Gil stepped out of the hug to face the lying cheat. "I'm fantastic, Lucy, thank you for asking." The woman instantly brought out the worst in him, and forgetting Greg was there, he cockily replied, "Yes, professionally and personally, I'm at the top of my game. The lab is having a record year, and I'm in a wonderful relationship, with a young, vibrant, intellectual. Really, life couldn't be sweeter." _And if you use your old nickname for me again, I may vomit. _

"Good for you, Bugsy!" Lucy smiled at the grinning young man standing next to her ex-lover. "So, are you going to introduce me to your young, vibrant partner or do I have to guess his name?" Turning back to the quirky Entomologist, she snickered, "I always had my suspicions you were a closeted gay, Gil." _And that you liked your lovers young, you cheeky bastard. _"It certainly does explain away several of your bedroom predilections, especially your preference for my back door."

"Oh!" Stunned by the shocking overshare, Greg covered his ears._ First I find out my parents are booty sex junkies and now Griss! Kinda ironic that the two gay guys on the team haven't indulged though. Ha! _

While dying of embarrassment, Gil frantically explained, "This is my **co-worker**, not my partner. I was hugging him because he just found out his paper will be published. My young, vibrant, intellectual **girl**friend isn't here with me, she's back in Vegas."

"Right…right, I'm sure she is," Lucy sarcastically replied. "Every time you come to one of these conferences you **claim **to have a special woman in your life, but no one has ever **seen** her, not even a photograph of her. We're Forensic Scientists, Gil, you know we require evidence. Go find yourself a beard like Charlie Thurgood."

Gil's mouth opened, but guilt seized his words. He really had been lying all the other times at all the other conferences, so he could understand where the skepticism over him really having a woman was coming from. And it wasn't like he could out his relationship with his employee anyway. _Damn._

"I know his girlfriend," Greg informed the meanie who looked like a brunette version of Catherine. "And she is just as Grissom described: young, vibrant, and extremely intelligent. I've known her for seven years and she's a phenomenal catch."

"So you're not with Gil?" Lucy clarified, while eyeing up the young man like a juicy steak. Since she had already slept with all the palatable nerds at previous conferences, it was nice to know there was a fresh fish in the geek pool to hook up with, particularly one with a cute smile and big feet.

"No, I'm not with Grissom."

"And I don't see a ring on your finger, Mr…."

"Sanders, but how about you call me Greg and I'll call you Mrs. Robinson?"

Gil's jaw dropped.

Counting the seconds until she had the witty young man in her bed, Lucy flirtatiously replied, "Is that your indirect way asking me out to dinner tonight, Greg?

Greg sweetly laughed, "No, that was my way of saying I caught you checking out my package, and aren't I a little young for you?"

"I like them young, that's why I dumped Gil for a grad student when he couldn't keep **up** with me twelve years ago." Lucy ran her manicured nails over Greg's blushing cheek. "The answer is 'yes, I'd love to order room service with you'."

"Sorry, but you're not my type and I really don't think it's good to fish off the Forensics Conference pier anyway, thanks."

Enjoying the miffed look on Lucy's face, Gil slapped his soon to be promoted employee on the back. "No, thank **you**."

* * *

"Stokes!" Jim shouted to the man hurrying out of the LVPD building as he was approaching the entrance. "Just the man I wanted to see." 

"Uh…" Clutching his cell phone, Nick anxiously said, "Can it wait, Jim?" He wanted to catch Greg before he went into his meeting with the editors. "I'm clocked out for the day."

"How are you doin'?" Jim asked the guy who looked ten seconds from a nervous breakdown. "Are you okay?"

"No, no I'm not okay." Shoving his cell in his jacket, Nick spoke with the weight of the world on his shoulders, "Cath and I just spent the last twelve hours working a triple homicide over in Summerlin." The heartbreaking scene still fresh in his head, he choked down his nausea. "A woman and her kids, ages four and seven, shot execution style. The ex-husband left a suicide note, but apparently chickened out and fled instead of pullin' the trigger. He went nuts because his ex-wife got a boyfriend. He decided to punish her by shootin' their kids while she watched. It's was a friggin' nightmare, Jim. I had to bag the little seven year old girl's pee-soaked pajama bottoms and blood covered teddy bear, so no, I'm **not** okay, not by a mile." After a sharp inhale, he shared, "She was duct-taped to a chair **wide awake** when her father pulled the trigger. That evil son of a bitch didn't even blindfold her. I've looked down the barrel of a gun twice, and it's scary as hell. I can't imagine what it would have been like to do it at seven when my daddy was holdin' it, so no…" He roughly cleared his throat. "I'm** not** okay."

Jim patted Nick's shoulder twice and quietly said, "Yeah, Sofia told me you were pretty vested in the case, so I was flagging you down to tell you we nabbed the husband at Starbucks and just brought him in. I'm handling the questioning and wanted to include you."

"Starbucks?" Nick brought his hands to his head, running them through his hair and he breathed though his disgust. "Starbucks, of course. Did he order a Latte or a Frappuccino? I'm just curious, you know? What does a guy order after blowin' off his kids' heads? **Starbucks?!**"

When Nick started taking his aggression out on a Clark Country trash can, Jim lurched forward. "Hey! Stokes!" Watching the man kick the can loose from its bolted frame, he yelled, "Let's not put on a show for IAB, okay?" As the trash can sailed through the air, Jim grabbed his cell phone. "Nick!" He punched in Sara's speed dial code just as the can slammed against the brick building. "It's Jim," he anxiously greeted while rushing after Nick who was racing back into the building, presumably to find the murderous husband. "We have a situation."

* * *

"Sanders!" 

Walking alone on the path to his hotel room after the publishing meeting, Greg whirled around to see who was calling his name. Nothing could have prepared him for the shock of seeing his old roommate walking toward him wearing a blue polo and khaki pants. "Jeff." _He was the guy Grissom saw staring at me._ "Wh…what are you…"

"I saw your name on the list of presenters," the thirty-three year old Tri-Athlete jogged over smiling. "All my co-workers kept asking why I was so excited to go to another Forensics conference." A nervous laugh tumbled from his lips. "I can't believe this day is finally here," he told his former best-friend who looked pale as a ghost. "I've been rehearsing this, but suddenly everything I planned to say is gone." He breathed deep. "I'm so sorry for what I did to you, because it was wrong, so wrong, and you…you were absolutely right about me." Shaking, he shared, "If I had been able to accept what you were telling me that day. Oh God, the lengths I've gone to …the lies, like my marriage…my poor kids. I wish I had listened to you. For **so many** reasons, I wish I could have heard you that day."

"You…" Greg gripped the back of a nearby bench to steady himself. "You really are…"

"Gay." Nerves produced a riotous laugh. "I can even say it now. Amazing, huh? I can actually say it out loud now. The look of surprise on your face is very similar to my wife's when I told her a few months ago." He stepped forward with tears in his eyes. "Please say you accept my apology, and please…" He reached out with a trembling hand. "Please say it's not too late for us to give it a shot."

"Uh…whoa. You mean you didn't just come here to apologize?" Greg asked, still off balance from all the other suprirses. "You want to…"

"Are you with anyone? The Alumni newsletter has never mentioned anything about you being…"

"You've been checking?"

Jeff laughed at himself. "My wife always wondered why I was crazed if that damn newsletter showed up late. Yes, I've been checking the newsletter! And Googling, and following everything you do." Brushing his hand over Greg's cheek, he softly said, "Hearing you almost died in that beating is what made me realize that life's too short. I'm so glad you're okay." He tenderly brushed back Greg's hair looking for scars.

Greg recoiled from his ex-love's touch. "My parents made sure I had the best plastic surgeon."

"Is there any permanent damage? Head injuries are tricky and…"

"I'm fine," Greg gulped down the lump in his throat.

"You're fine, thank God, you're fine." A smile of relief swept across Jeff's face. "If you had died without hearing my apology I don't know what I would have done. Please tell me you forgive me."

"I…I don't know."

"Then let's go somewhere a little more private to talk it out." Squeezing Greg's hand, he urged, "I'm holding your hand in public. Can you believe it? You should have seen me the first time I was with a guy. It was crazy, I was…"

"When was that?" Greg asked in shock, believing that his friend had come to take a critical first step.

"About three years ago," Jeff chuckled, "At one of these conferences actually. I went slumming with a Ballistics guy," he laughed, "My standards got higher as time went on."

"Three years ago?" Greg repeated in disbelief. "You were with a guy **three years** ago?"

In a hushed voice, the formerly repressed man confessed, "I don't know how it worked for you, but after suppressing the feelings for so long, once I got a taste, I was an animal. I went on dozens of business trips that first year," he chuckled. "I topped my way across country, even did a bartender in a frickin' bathroom stall. I was honing my skills for you, baby."

"You son of a bitch!" Greg shouted as his right hook landed firmly on Jeff's square jaw. "You** knew** I was right for three god damn years and didn't apologize?! That means you didn't tell your wife for years either, so you're a cheat too! I don't believe you!" he screamed while shoving his stunned ex-friend. "**No**, I don't accept your horrifically tardy apology, you self-centered son of a bitch!"

"Look, I know you're upset," Jeff stated while rubbing his jaw, still shocked that his non-athletic ex-roommate could land such a solid punch.

"Upset?! Upset doesn't **begin **to describe how I feel!" Greg raged. "I'm sure your wife would be able to empathize though."

"I can't believe you landed that punch."

Greg snarled, "I've had a **really **bad year and I am **not** the same wimpy guy who used to cook you breakfast, do your laundry, and kiss your ass hoping you'd give me the time of day! And** yes** it's too late for us, because I have **much** better taste in men now and I'm with someone spectacular! Someone who has more integrity in his pinky finger than you do in your entire body! And he's hot too! So, enjoy the conference and good luck with your train wreck of a life, asshole!" With that he stomped off, but about five yards into his march, he turned around, "Hey! Have you ever had a paper published in a science journal?"

"Uh…no," Jeff answered the unexpected question.

"Well I have! Ha!"

"God, you're such a queen, Sanders!" The jock laughed, falling a little deeper in love with the guy of his dreams. "I really miss your Denver Omelets!"

"How about I make you one to choke on and die?"

"This hard to get thing is really working for me." Jeff flashed his Hollywood smile, "Come on, have dinner with me."

"Sorry, I have a strict policy against dining with vermin, which reminds me…" Resuming his diva exit with a big fat smile on his face, Greg shouted as he snapped, "**My roach** is gonna kick your roach's ass!"

* * *

**ANs:**

The last chapter kicked off the start of some drama for Nick, this chapter continued his spiral. He's been consistently edgy on the show this year and has voiced his displeasure for mankind and Vegas a few times. I'm keeping that part of him and have added the layer that he's dealing with the angst of finally coping with his repressed sexuality. When a person is on the verge of coming out to themselves and/or someone, they can be extremely edgy. Nick's in turmoil by the end of the chapter, but the good news is, once he hits rock bottom in the next chapter, it means he's on his way up. I have a really nice journey planned for him.

Anyone who knows my writing style, knew that the second I mentioned Jeff, we'd be seeing him at some point! Did anyone suspect it was him when Grissom mentioned a man was watching Greg? I love to do small mentions, like when I gave the blurb about Jeff working in DNA, so that it's plausible he'd be at a Forensics conference, and then pulling all the little details together many chapters later.

**THANK YOU SO MUCH** for the feedback. I was blown away by your support after the last chapter!

**Maggs **


	19. Chapter 19: Helping Out a Friend

**Where You Are**

**Written By: Ms. Maggs / Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 19: Helping Out a Friend **

"You have to pull it together," Jim calmly advised while crouched in front of Nick, who was lying on his side in a supply closet, handcuffed and panting. "You're lucky I had those uniforms subdue you before you could pull your weapon." It had taken ten minutes just to get him to stop screaming. "I get it, believe me, I do. The guy executed his kids. Shooting him isn't even close to what I'd like to do to him. I'd like to publicly stone him and then let rabid wolves rip his busted body to shreds, but I can't have it my way and neither can you." Although he wished they could. "Trust me…you don't want to take up vigilante justice, because once you do, you get as lost as the bad guys. I've seen it happen to cops, it never ends well, and it would be hell on your family. Nick…you're a good guy who has seen some really bad shit and had some horrible things happen to him. It's a job hazard, we all go through phases…days, months or years when we don't think we can handle it anymore. When that happens, you need to step back and take a break. Maybe you can't do the job anymore. Maybe you really have hit the wall, but you won't know until you take a little time off and pull your head together." He tapped Nick on the shoulder. "Are you hearing anything I'm saying?"

"Yeah," Nick finally whispered. "You're right, and I'm sorry for losin' it. Thank you for stoppin' me before I did somethin' stupid."

"No sweat." Jim explained, "I've had my moments over the years and won't be casting any stones."

"I…I'm pretty sure I woulda tried to kill the guy if I had found him."

"Yeah, I know, but let's not tell Ecklie or IAB that when you meet with them, okay?"

"I guess there's no way they're just gonna let this slide, huh?"

"Not a chance in hell," Jim assured his embarrassed co-worker. "My advice, next time you have a breakdown, don't have it **at** the station."

"Yeah." Nick filled his lungs with air as his favorite police captain helped him sit up. "That was real bad planning on my part."

"Let me get those cuffs off you." Jim dangled his keys. "I have your weapon by the way, and I won't be giving it back."

"I don't blame you. How many people saw me lose it?"

"A dozen or so saw you assault a trash can, and then a couple dozen more were privy to your sprint into the building to kill the suspect and watched three cops take you down."

"Is that all? Great." Sitting up, Nick brought his freed, trembling hands to his face. "I'm sure Ecklie will have plenty to say then. I'm surprised he hasn't stormed in here."

"Sara's guarding the door," Jim announced as he stood. "Catherine is smoothing things over with Ecklie, because when you flipped out in the hallway, Sofia told him about an incident with you in Boulder City a few months ago and he's declared you unfit to work."

"She promised she wouldn't tell."

"A good friend doesn't keep a secret when your safety is in jeopardy. She did the right thing. If we had all compared notes, we would have gone to Grissom and recommended a leave of absence."

Knowing he had asked multiple people to keep quiet on the sly, Nick admitted, "You're absolutely right."

* * *

"I have to pull it together," Greg's voice cracked as he sat on the floor in his hotel room talking to his mother on his cell. In lieu of his best friend, he had no choice but to turn to her for guidance. "I yelled like a girl, but at least I didn't cry, and I nailed him square on the jaw with a right hook." 

"Good for you!" Jan cheered. "Normally I'm against violence of any sort, but that bastard deserved it. I hope you didn't hurt your hand though."

"No." Greg opened and closed his fingers a few times to make sure. "That self-defense and empowerment program I was forced to take, really paid off. I'm going to buy my PEAP Counselor, Henry, a Starbucks gift card to say thanks for mandating it."

"How did Jeff the Creep look?"

"He does triathlons, Mom, what do you think? He was bigger, blonder and bolder than ever."

"That's what I figured. Will he be there for the whole conference?"

"Unfortunately." Greg rolled his eyes. "He thinks I'm playing hard to get, so my guess is he intends to harass me all week."

"Promise me you won't give in."

"I swear on Nana Olaf's grave. The man is vile and all I feel toward him is disgust, I couldn't have been more repulsed. He beat me to a pulp on my birthday and didn't apologize for ten years even though he **knew **I was right at least for the last three. He's been cruising men and cheating on his wife every chance he gets. The way he talked, a lot of it sounded like 'heat of the moment' passion, so I wonder if he's even been practicing safe sex. Can you imagine his wife finding out he's been traveling the country screwing guys while she's home taking care of his kids? That poor woman." His stomach churned. "He's a lying, manipulative pig, Mom. He had plenty of time to track me down, but he didn't bother until his wife left him. You know what I think? I think he wants me to be his new wife, doing all the domestic stuff just like when we used to live together during Grad School. He even said he missed my Denver Omelets."

"You do make a fabulous Denver, sweetie."

"Thanks." Greg sighed and leaned back against the wall, thinking of how much Nick liked them too. "I have no doubt in my mind that he would be out screwing every guy he could while I was home cooking and doing laundry for his scummy ass."

"Maybe this is my fault, maybe I shouldn't have made you so domestic."

"Nah, the right person will appreciate everything I learned from you, but not take advantage of me or my generosity."

"Like Nicky."

"Yeah." Since she was already worried, he didn't have the heart to tell her that Nick was upset with him.

"You can't let Jeff ruin your first big conference presentation. Just hold your head up high and don't let him see you sweat. Showing him that you're happy and successful in spite of what he's done to hurt you truly is the best revenge."

"Thanks for being a great mom and a great friend." Loving her for sharing her wisdom and support, Greg's smile returned. "You're absolutely right."

* * *

"Hey." Sara walked into the Crime Lab locker room and over to Nick. "Why are you taking everything off your locker?" 

"I thought it was best." He continued peeling photos of his family off the inside door. "Just in case I don't get clearance, y'know. It would be too embarrassing to hafta come back."

"I'm sure you'll be back," she said, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt. "I heard that Catherine really went to bat for you with Ecklie."

"Yeah." Staring at the photo of his nieces and nephews taken at Christmas in front of his parents' traditionally trimmed tree, he wondered why he hadn't been blessed with the easy, normal life his siblings were living. "It was good that Grissom left Cath in charge, because ever since his divorce, Ecklie responds best to a flirtatious negotiating style."

"In other words, he's a pig," Sara snarked. "But I think we should like Catherine again, what about you?"

"Even if this hadn't happened, it was probably about time, doncha think?"

"Yeah."

"What kind of deal did she end up negotiating for you?"

"I get one week to pull my shit together and then I have to report to my PEAP counselor."

"Same counselor that you saw after the kidnapping? Because I know you felt really comfortable with him."

"Henry, yeah, so at least I won't have to worry about dealin' with someone new. After three weeks of counseling, I have to pass a psych eval and a firearms certification to return. If I fail, they'll refer me to a more intense program."

"Wow, that is a good deal, because I heard Ecklie say he wanted you out of here for three months."

"I guess that shows how much Cath worked him over, huh? We had a nice talk when she came to me with the terms. We smoothed out our differences and have agreed to start with a clean slate. So, at least somethin' good came out of my freakshow. God, every time I think about it, I get a little more mortified."

"I really hope you don't feel embarrassed around me, because I've certainly had my moments."

"Gettin' pissy with Cath in the hall is hardly close to a complete mental snap. Hell, as far as I'm concerned, you were totally justified that day."

"That's not what I was talking about." Taking a seat on the bench, Sara quietly shared, "A few years ago, Grissom mandated I take a month off and start PEAP."

"How could I not know that?"

"Because my incident didn't happen while I was on the job, and Grissom covered for me, telling you that HR forced me to take a vacation because I had accrued too much time. I had been pretty close to losing it for a while, after Suzanna Kirkwood died to be precise. I started leaving work and drinking to numb the pain." Shaking her head, she sighed, "One night I got pulled over for DUI. They called Grissom and said they would give me a pass if he came down to the station for me."

Nick took a seat next to her in the empty locker room. "Wow. That is serious."

"I lucked out. If I had been caught on The Strip, or in an accident, my career would have been over."

"No kidding."

Sara finished the story, "After attending my counseling sessions, getting rid of bad habits, and making some much needed lifestyle changes, I felt **much** better. I returned to work renewed. I'm sure you will too, just don't rush it. Really take your time and sort things out. The job will still be here when you return, because who wants to work graveyard in Sin City, right? It's too depressing and the pay sucks."

"True," he chuckled, feeling better for the first time since the ordeal. "Very true."

"What did Greg have to say about all this?" When Nick fell silent and averted his eyes, she asked, "Did you have a hard time getting through? I had to call Grissom about something and didn't have a problem, so maybe…"

"I didn't call Greg." Once again Nick was on his feet cleaning out his locker. "Do you know if Grissom told him? Or is going to tell him?"

"Why wouldn't you…did something bad happen between you two?" Sara probed, feeling bad for prying, but considering her friend's state of mind, it felt like the right move. "I trust you with my life, so I hope you know you can trust me with anything. You do, right?"

"It's not that I don't trust you, it's…" Emotionally drained and in desperate need of a friend, Nick risked a little personal information. "I didn't call Greg, because I kinda upset him when we were talking on the phone last night. I didn't mean to, I just got pissed off about something he said and hung up on him. Not like a slam the phone down type of hang up, I said I needed to go, and I said goodbye, but I hung up knowing he was real upset, well, upset isn't exactly the right word, more like disappointed, although that doesn't sound right either." Closing his empty locker, he took a breath. "I guess that's the problem, huh? I hung up without knowing how he felt."

"What was the fight about?" Sara pushed, trying to help her obviously troubled pal, and when she saw him glance around, she added, "We're all alone in here and can see if anyone comes in. No one should though, because everyone from day shift just left for the field."

"Sara…" He froze.

"There's nothing you could tell me that would change the way I think about you. Nothing."

"I appreciate what you're doin' here, but it's a problem that I don't feel comfortable discussin' with anyone, that's exactly how I got pissed at Greg, him pushin' me to talk about it when I didn't wanna."

"I'm never a busybody. You know I'm not. I'm just worried about you. You and Greg are the only friends I have, besides another significant one who shall remain nameless."

"Ha!" Nick laughed at the hypocrisy. "You want me to discuss my personal problems, but you can't even tell me you're hooked up with Griss?" When he saw her surprised reaction, he said, "Yeah, Greg and I figured out he was your SO after you told Jenni's grandpa that you couldn't make it to the hospital because a close friend of yours was injured. Then we found out that Grissom was out of work with a blown back." He teased, "Did it happen during sex?"

"Not **during**," she replied while her cheeks blushed to a bright red. "I left to retrieve a pertinent supply and he fell…off the edge…of the Jacuzzi tub."

"Oh! I can't believe you just told me that."

"Me either." Hoping the overshare would set the tone for a soul-baring conversation, she sweetly pleaded, "You can't tell him. Seriously. This is me talking to you like you're the brother I wished I had. When I didn't have anything good going on in my life, it didn't matter that I didn't have anyone to share details with, but now I get these urges to tell someone how overwhelmingly happy I am, but who? I don't have girlfriends, siblings or parents to tell. It would be nice if that confidante could be you, and not that I think anything will go wrong with Grissom, but if something does, I'll need someone to talk to, you know?"

It felt nice to be needed on a bad day. "I'd love to be your confidante and your stand-in brother."

"Good, then I'll tell you a little more top secret info." Sara slid close and spoke in a whisper, "I moved in with my SO the same weekend that Greg moved in with you."

Nick's smile expanded. "Were you hidin' in the house yesterday when I dropped off Greg?"

"Yep." Sara smiled wide. "I was watching out the window, completely envious that you were out there giving Greg a great goodbye hug while I had to hide inside."

"Oh." Nick's smile vanished. "I didn't know anyone was watchin' us." He flustered, "I um…I can only imagine what you…shit."

"It's okay."

"No, no it's not." He panicked, feeing far from okay.

Treading delicately, she said, "This is without a doubt the most intrusive thing I've ever said to anyone ever."

"Uh oh." He braced for her words.

"I'm going to take a shot here, and if I'm off base, I apologize, and I hope you won't be upset, okay?" When he didn't reply, she forged on as cryptically as possible, hoping it would make it easier for him to hear. "Yesterday, watching you and Greg in the parking lot, that hug looked pretty special to me, and if I'm right, and it was special, then my thoughts are only positive, because you and Greg have both survived terrible things against all odds and if anyone deserves to be happy, it's the two of you. I'd be thrilled for you. I wanted you to hear that in case you were worried that I would feel differently. And if I'm right, you don't have to worry about me telling anyone that I am. I won't. I wanted you to know that too."

When she finally ended the tortuous ramble, Nick whimpered, "You're killin' me, Sara." As usual, the acid in his stomach started to churn. "You're killin' me."

"That's not my intention."

"I know." Uncovering his face, he whispered, "I have a hard time even thinkin' about this, so to talk about it with you, or Greg, it's not a matter of trust, it's just me not wantin' to talk about it, because to talk about it means it exists, and I don't want it to exist. I've worked overtime for decades keepin' it nonexistent. I've never spoken of it, or acted on it. Never."

"That doesn't sound healthy, and considering your melt down today, I think we can agree that you're not in a good place."

"Why do you care?" he snipped. "I get why Greg is hell bent on me dealin' with this, but what's in it for you?"

The question put a smile on Sara's face. "While I have no doubt that Greg would benefit much more in the long run, I'm reasonably certain that we both have your health as our primary concern, and we want you to be happy."

"Happy?" Nick scoffed at the absurdity. "Happy?! Are you kiddin' me? Losin' my family would not make me happy."

"What makes you think you would lose them?" she asked, troubled by the response. "I met your folks when you were kidnapped. It was obvious they care deeply about you."

"They love who I am **now**, Sara, but they wouldn't if I was…" He lowered his voice, "They're not pro-choice people, not when it comes to abortion or alternative lifestyles. They are ring-wing conservative Christians. They campaigned for Bush Senior and Junior. James Dobson and Pat Robertson have been to the ranch for dinner. My mom heads a pro-life action group and my sister lobbies in Washington DC to preserve the American family by pushing for legislation against things like same-sex marriage and medical benefits for life partners. Do you see what I'm sayin'? If I choose…"

"Choose?" Surprised by his comparison, Sara replied, "What do you mean choose? Abortion is a choice, but sexuality isn't. You're a scientist, you know that."

"I wasn't born this way," he shakily replied, "I was born normal, just like my brother and sisters. It was the abuse that messed me up. I can't bond with women, because I was sexually abused by one as a young boy. If it weren't for that, I'd be just like them, I'd be married with kids too. I know that's it. I know it."

Seeing Nick's whole body tremble, Sara reached out for his hand. "Let's really think about that explanation, okay?"

"Okay." Relieved to have his theory finally in the hands of someone else, Nick pulled in a deep breath. "I've never been able to tell anyone, and it would really help if I could hear you agree with me."

Her friend's desperation and choice of words, tugging at her heart strings, Sara began, "I absolutely believe that being abused by a woman could make you hate women and not trust them. I agree with you. Your inability to bond with women could be gravely impacted."

"Good," he exhaled, relieved by the statement. "It's great to hear you say that, because you have a strong Forensic Psychology background and I trust your opinion."

"Thank you for your faith." She cautiously continued, "Besides my professional opinion, I have a personal one too. Watching my father abuse my mother made me hate men and distrust them. All through high school, I couldn't bond with guys. In college I tried again, but was burned and my hatred was renewed. Abuse gets imprinted in our minds and it's hard to shake the negativity consciously, but subconsciously it's even harder."

"I knew I was right," Nick breathed a little easier. "I knew the abuse was the reason."

With a steady voice, she burst her desperate friend's bubble, "But even though I was repulsed by men for a long time, not once did that repulsion make me attracted to women. So, while I can believe that you hate women because one abused you, I can't believe that the abuse made you physically attracted to boys growing up and still has you drawn to men today."

Hearing his friend say he was attracted to boys, only intensified his nausea.

"It doesn't work that way, Nick. I know, believe me, I tried. I was sick of men and agreed to go out with a girl in college, but it didn't click, no matter how hard I wanted it to work and be rid of men forever, it didn't work." Squeezing Nick's tremoring hand tighter, she presented her theory, "Isn't it possible that the attraction to boys was always there, but before you were old enough to understand your sexuality, the abuse happened? Then, when you reached puberty and found yourself attracted to boys, your used the abuse to rationalize those feelings because you knew they went against your family's beliefs?"

"But how can we ever know for sure?" he asked as his terror grew.

"We look at the evidence." Her compassion shining through, she tenderly replied, "You're thirty-five and still horribly conflicted, that tells me that all the rationalizing has failed. You've dated hundreds of women, but have never **once** spoken of a special girl. Knowing you're a romantic guy, why haven't you fallen in love with a woman after all this time? And your dating behavior doesn't match your personality, Nick. You're a nice, old-fashioned guy, but you only date like women you'd never bring home to Mama."

"Greg's been sayin' that to me too," Nick shared as reality crashed down around him.

"And let's talk about Greg," Sara segued, "the happiest I've ever seen you is when you're with him. When you look at him, when you talk about him, I see your eyes light up, and when I watched you hug him yesterday, the look on your face...it was like suddenly everything made sense, that you were in the right place."

"But I don't want your theory to be right!" he anxiously replied, realizing that everything she was saying was true, especially about the hug feeling incredibly right. In Greg's arms, everything really had clicked into place. "I don't want to be…I don't want to want him."

"But as a scientist, you saying you don't want to be attracted to men is like hearing you don't want brown eyes. It's part of who you are."

"But it doesn't have to be." He made one final push, "People choose to get color contacts if they don't like their brown eyes, so why can't I choose to date women because I don't like the way I was born? It's as simple as that."

"And how's that choice been working out so far?"

"Good enough," he gulped.

"Good enough? We're talking about your happiness, Nick. Good enough is no way to live, I'd say it's not really living at all." Sara's heart broke for the tormented man sitting next to her. "I knew a guy who was choosing not to have a life for years, but you know what happened when he finally gave in and said what the hell?"

His eyes welling, Nick answered, "He fell out a jacuzzi and hurt his back?"

"Yes!" she rejoiced, "and when he was in the hospital suffering from his romance-induced injury, he looked at me and said that he was happier than he had** ever** been in his life. He looked me in the eyes and shared that if he had to choose between being home alone pain-free and being miserable in the hospital with his girlfriend because of an adventurous mishap, he would pick the injury ten out of ten times, because living in pain is **much** better than existing numb." As her friend stealthily wiped his tears, she said, "Color contacts, implants, hair dyes, while they successfully change who a person is on the outside, they never change who they are on the inside. People who focus 24/7 on their appearance are usually doing it to achieve what they believe is the societal norm. They do it because they're desperate to be what Cosmopolitan magazine has declared ideal, to the extreme of having painful surgeries and starving themselves. You're working 24/7 trying to live the way your family says is the American family ideal, to the extreme of sacrificing your happiness and denying yourself a meaningful relationship with someone you clearly want."

"But they're my family, Sara," his voice cracked. "Gettin' blue contacts would be about vanity, my choice to live a certain way is about not hurtin' the people I love. My father is a public figure and family members are respected in the community, two of them hold elected offices. On top of that, they're Christians who believe the Bible is the inerrant word of God. Many of them are actively involved in their churches, and the Dallas social circle they're in is tight as hell. I don't want to cause them grief. I don't want my mom prayin' for my soul every night before she sleeps. I don't want to miss every holiday and not be allowed to hang with my nephews because I'm creepy Uncle Nick. My choice is a sacrifice I'm willin' to make to spare them embarrassment and discomfort, and to keep my place in the family. Why can't you respect that decision?"

Looking directly into Nick's teary eyes, she pointedly asked, "What is your family personally sacrificing for you on a daily basis? Hmm?"

"They uh…"

"Do you think your brother would give up his marriage if it offended you? You told me that two of your sisters didn't even come to see you after you almost died because they were too busy with their kids, something about a school play." She snapped into anger, "Wake up, Nick! They're all busy living while you hide here in Vegas working overtime not to offend them. How fair is that? You didn't ask to be born this way, it's how you're hardwired. If they can't understand that, they're ignorant, and if someone doesn't love you because you have brown eyes, do they really love you at all?" She gulped down her rage. "I know that sounds harsh, and maybe I'm bitter because I don't have a family, or maybe I can't get it, because I don't believe the Bible is the inerrant word of God, or maybe I'm just intolerant of intolerant people, I don't know. Just answer the question, what is your family doing for you while you sacrifice your happiness to keep them from being inconvenienced or uncomfortable?"

After a lengthy pause, he squeaked, "You're right, Sara, you're so right. Half the time my sisters don't even return my calls. Eileen didn't even remember my birthday last year. Greg never forgets my birthday."

"You've given them thirty-five years of your life as a great son and brother," Sara encouraged wanting to end her friend's misery. "How about giving them a chance to be great for you? The ones who truly love you, will be there when the dust settles, right?" When he nodded, she softened her tone, "And who says you have to tell them anyway? A lot of people come out to a few trusted friends and tell their families much later. I would wait a while."

"A long while." Jumping to his feet, Nick paced in front of Sara. "Holy shit! I can't believe we're talking about this, I can't believe I'm considerin' what I'm considerin' after forcin' myself to not consider it for so long."

"Be honest with yourself, as scared as you are right now, deep down there's some relief, right?"

Unable to admit it with words, he confirmed her suspicions with a nod.

"I know how hard this is for you, but you've got me, and you've got Greg. How many times have you told me what a great guy he is, huh?"

"Yeah," he bit back his tears. "He really is."

Sara watched fear and joy dancing together in Nick's eyes. "Greg's in Long Beach and you have time off. There's always a lot of downtime at those conferences."

"What the hell." He reached for his cell. "You're right, you're absolutely right. I haven't been livin' at all. I'm gonna start now."

"Don't call!" Sara laughed at herself for playing Cupid. "Just drive there and surprise him."

"You think that's better?"

"Who doesn't like a romantic surprise?"

"Oh God." Nick leaned against the lockers. "Hearin' you talkin' about it casually like that. A romantic surprise, oh my God." He gripped his knotting stomach. "I've never even talked to Greg on those terms. The only thing I've said so far is 'yes' when he asked me if I wanted to go to Catalina Island with him, and then when he asked if I'd be bringin' girls I said no, I just wanted to be with him. After that I flipped out, and rightly so, because I don't know the first thing about…"

Sara stood and beamed a smile at her friend. "Dating a guy?" When she saw him cringe, she sweetly advised, "The more we talk about it out loud, the more comfortable you'll get. How much experience has he had?"

"I don't know! I didn't want to know. I still kinda don't want to know, but I guess I have to know, huh?"

"I think it would be helpful, yes," she sweetly smiled at the frightened newbie. "But if I had to guess, I'd say that Greg is a solid three on the Kinsey scale and probably hasn't had a lot of play on either side of the fence. You will definitely wear the pants in the relationship, because if ever there was a top…"

"Please stop." With puppy dog eyes he begged for a reprieve, "Baby steps, Sara, baby steps. I can't go there."

"Top not as in physical locale, I meant the dominant partner, like me, as opposed to Grissom." She chuckled, "I'll shut up now."

"Thank you," he replied while massaging his temples. "Because I passed overwhelmed when you brought up the Kinsey scale and I'm well on my way to heart attack."

"I just got a great idea," Sara stated, continuing her ad-hoc therapy program.

Nick's pulse notched. "You're not like going to take me shopping for pink clothes or a manicure, are ya?" He couldn't believe he was joking, he couldn't believe anything that had just happened or was happening, or was about to happen.

"Shopping and manicures? Are you kidding?" She belly laughed. "I don't like doing that stuff for me, so I'd never subject you to that kind of torture." She winked, "I'm driving with you to Long Beach. After four hours of desensitization therapy with me talking to you in the car, hopefully you'll be able to speak to Greg in full sentences. After the conference, I'll ride home with my boyfriend, and you can ride home with yours."

"My ears are officially bleeding." With his hands over his face, he asked, "How can you go to California? What about work?"

"Not a problem." She popped open her locker. "Cath told Ecklie it would be best if the rest of us had some time to decompress from the drama, so he called in the Relief Team like we did after your kidnapping." Nudging her stand-in sibling, she chuckled, "That's two we owe you, bro." Grabbing her jacket and purse from her locker, she said, "I'll go home and pack, swing by for me in an hour, okay?"

Grabbing his box of locker contents, he agreed in a quavering voice, "Okay, unless I pass out from the stress, you've got yourself a ride."

"You'll be fine."

"I feel anything but."

In his ear she whispered, "I guarantee you'll know if it's the right decision the second Greg looks at you. Right or wrong, you'll know." Trying desperately to put her pal at ease, she headed for the door whistling a happy tune and cracked a joke, "Hmm…maybe you better make that ninety minutes, because I want to buy some new lingerie."

"I thought you don't like shopping," Nick teased as they walked down the hall.

"No, I said I don't like shopping for me," she snickered, "but I don't buy new lingerie for me."

Thinking of Greg's new moose boxers, Nick lowered his head to hide his grin. It was happening. After all these years he was letting it happen. He had come out to Sara and was hours away from being face to face with the guy who wanted him to be much more than a friend. It was official, life had begun. "Were you kiddin' about needin' ninety minutes, Sara?"

"Want to get there as soon as possible?" Sara asked through a brilliant smile.

He answered by shifting his eyes to the floor.

"That's okay, " she confessed, "I want to get there as soon as possible too. It's only been twenty-four hours, which makes me pathetic, I know, but…I miss him like hell."

Nick silently replied, _I know the feeling. _

* * *

**ANs: **

I hope you enjoyed the chapter and how Sara worked with Nick to help him out.

Thanks,  
Maggs


	20. Chapter 20: Surprised?

**Where You Are  
****Written By: Ms. Maggs / Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 20: Surprised?**

"Are you hungry?" Grissom asked his mopey travel mate as they walked through the Long Beach Aquarium in silence.

"No," Greg answered from his position in front of the massive floor to ceiling tropical tank. He always lost his appetite under duress.

"They have a Starbucks café on the premises," Grissom countered, "would you like to grab a coffee?"

Greg shrugged. "Maybe an iced mocha. Nah, nevermind." After learning of Nick's melt down from Catherine and receiving no calls from his buddy, he took it as a sign that things were over before they had really begun. "Fish are lucky," he sighed. "They don't sit by the phone waiting for calls, or wonder if they'll have a date on Saturday night. They don't even know it's Saturday night."

"It's Sunday," Grissom compulsively corrected.

"I was speaking figuratively."

"Ah."

"I envy fish." Greg tracked a large Ray gliding through the water. "They aren't bogged down by complicated interpersonal relationships, intense emotions, or sexual frustration. They're never alone, because they travel in schools. Sometimes I wish I was a fish. Knowing my luck, if I were a fish, I'd be expelled from school."

"Stop! Please, stop." Grissom reluctantly broached the subject he had been dreading, "Look, I don't like to get personally involved with my employees, but…"

"What?!" Greg burst out laughing. "Are you kidding me?! Normally I wouldn't say anything, but I'm in a funky mood and all bets are off. I figured out that you're shacking up with Sara, so for you to say you don't get personally involved with your employees is laughable. The jig's up, Griss. I know you're human."

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Grissom droned, "Will a Grande Mocha Latte with extra whip prevent you from sharing that knowledge with others?"

"Maybe one a day for the rest of my life." When Grissom tensed, Greg relented, "I'm just busting your chops. I haven't told anyone and I won't, but you should know that Nick figured it out too and he hates lattes. A weekly steak at Arizona Charlie's will probably buy his silence. Or you could just be up front about your relationship and stop lying and covering your tracks. There's a novel idea, huh? People being honest about their feelings and personal lives. Wouldn't that be nice? I know I'd welcome that from people for a change."

"On my way back to my room this morning after our meeting with the editors, I saw you passionately arguing with a man you seemed to be acquainted with a little more than casually."

"You did?" Greg fell silent.

"Yes, that's what I was about to say when you outed me as a hypocrite."

Greg anxiously laughed, "Funny you should use the word outed."

"Not really, I picked it specifically as a segue to my next comment."

"Oh. Are you surprised?"

"Not really." Stepping closer, Grissom quietly said, "To me, sexual orientation is like eye color, genetically determined. Your being gay is not offensive to me in the least, but what I do find appalling is inappropriate and unprofessional behavior at a Forensics Conference when you are associated with me and the LVPD Lab. It is a **privilege **to be here presenting with me, Greg, and if you **ever **want that privilege again, I suggest you change your behavior ASAP. Just so we're clear, I'm telling you exactly the same thing I told Catherine in the past, so there is no same-sex discrimination going on here. When you're representing the lab at a conference, keep your love life private and have your lover's quarrels behind closed doors."

"He's not my lover!" Greg barked in reply, "and I'm Bi, so you're O for two, Mr. Know-It-All. What the hell happened to not making assumptions, Griss? About waiting for all the evidence before drawing conclusions? Huh? I didn't invite Jeff to the hotel, he stalked me there. It might have looked different from afar, but those PDAs were one-sided, and when he wouldn't back off, I punched him."

"Stalked?" Grissom asked with concern in his voice. "Let's not toss that word around lightly."

"I'm dead serious! He's my ex-friend and Grad School roommate. We parted ways ten years ago on my birthday. He surprised me with an expensive Omega watch and silly me, I assumed it meant that he was crazy about me. When I said as much and told him I felt the same way, he screamed he wasn't queer and beat the crap out of me and if his buddy hadn't shown up, I'd be dead. We never spoke again…until today." Calming down with a deep breath, he continued, "He's a DNA guy in Seattle now and he told me he signed up for the conference because he saw my name on the presenter list. He came here to say that I was right about him being gay and in denial. It took him seven years to admit it to himself, but instead of apologizing to me immediately, he decided to screw guys for three years first and **then** clue me in. He showed up here hoping we'd pick up where we left off, which I told him would happen right after hell freezes over. I'm very sorry if I caused you any embarrassment, but he literally ambushed me on the path to my room and I was in shock. It won't happen again, I assure you. If he tries to talk to me, I'll just keep walking."

While Greg caught his breath, Grissom groveled, "I'm very sorry, it was terrible of me to make assumptions. Under those circumstances, your reaction is quite understandable. I hope you'll accept my apology."

"Consider it accepted." Greg headed for the escalator. "I'll take that latte now."

"You got it." Following his depressed employee who truly was having a shit year, Grissom said, "After hearing about Nick's emotional episode at the lab this morning, I figured..."

"Jeff's appearance and Nick's explosion are unrelated." Greg stepped onto the escalator. "There's nothing going on between Nick and me. He's a ladies man, end of story. If it's appeared to be anything else, it was just me projecting my wishful thinking, so don't worry, there won't be any problems at the lab in the future, no PDAs, no lover's quarrels."

"I'm sorry, you really don't have to explain anymore."

"Let's talk about you then." Stepping off the escalator Greg asked in a vulnerable voice, "Are you going for happily ever after with Sara?"

"Uh…" Walking in the direction of Starbucks, Grissom replied, "I don't ever discuss my personal life. I honestly still have some difficulty discussing it with Sara, but yes, I would love to see our relationship stand the test of time."

"Considering the divorce rate, your response sounds much more romantic and hopeful than 'I hope we get married some day'." Pushing beyond his own problems, Greg smiled at the thought of Sara being loved. "I wanted to be the guy responsible for making Sara happy for the rest of her life. I applied for the job many, many times, but never even got a phone interview. If it couldn't be me, I'm glad it's you, because I know you'll keep her safe and treat her right." Sighing, he checked out the pastries in the display case. "And when you're too old to satisfy her in the not so distant future, she can always buy a good vibrator."

With Trump-like bravado, Grissom joked, "Greg…you're fired."

"I'm sure the Undersheriff will be thrilled to hear it." Greg pointed to a lemon-poppy seed muffin. "I'll have one of those please," he told the barista in between laughs.

When Greg was done ordering his complicated coffee, Grissom requested a Coffee of the Day and then bestowed a little wisdom on his protégé, "I didn't get my dream girl until the ripe old age of forty-nine, so trust me when I tell you that there's still plenty of time for you to find and settle down with Ms. or Mr. Right."

"Thanks, for the encouragement, sensitivity and political correctness." The young CSI grinned, "Sorry about the vibrator joke."

* * *

"Are you hungry?" Sara yelled over her shoulder while driving Nick's SUV. "Come on! Take the gum out of your ears and talk to me!" 

Fishing out wads of Bubble Yum, Nick sighed, "That trick has spared me pain on multiple occasions now…it saved me from bustin' my ear drums when I shot my gun in the coffin, kept out the ants from crawlin' in, and now it muffled your gay talk." When Sara went too far with her desensitization therapy, he had jumped to the backseat and threatened to render himself deaf. The gum trick ended up being his compromise. "If you pull into the Wienerschnitzel drive-thru and order me a foot-long wiener, I'm strandin' you here. I'm not kiddin', Sidle."

"I'm very proud," she said while her friend returned to the passenger seat, "you just managed to say the word 'gay' for the first time and then you joked about eating wieners. I'm not only a great CSI, I'm a great therapist."

"Yeah, you're like Dr. Phil and Dr. Ruth's surprisingly good looking love child," Nick droned as he buckled up for the remaining hour of the drive.

"Thank you…I think." Pointing to the road sign listing the restaurants at the next exit, Sara asked, "Where do you want to eat?"

Without hesitation, Nick picked his usual place, "In and Out." As soon as the words rolled off his tongue, he burst out laughing. "Come on now, you know In and Out Burger is my favorite place."

"I'm having a great time," Sara announced while laughing along with her pseudo-brother. "If I wasn't in love with Grissom and you weren't gay, this would be appear to be a great date, don't you think?"

"There's that word again." He grabbed the mini notebook and pen he had sitting in the console and made another hash mark on the page titled 'Number of times Sara said gay'. "Forty-one," he reported.

"My goal is sixty-nine." Shaking with laughter, she added, "Yours should be too…one night in the future…with Greg."

"I'm kickin' you out of my truck when we stop for food Rancho Cucamonga, Sidle, so I hope your bug-freak boyfriend can peel himself away from his roaches long enough to drive here and pick you up."

"I'm sorry, that was a** really** bad joke." Sara shook her head. "I'm appalled with myself and my lack of self control. Just because I'm on my way to secretly rendezvous with my fifty year old boss in his Forensics Conference hotel room, which is being paid for by the good citizens of Clark County, doesn't mean I'm a low-class scamp who can't pass up an off color joke when it's staring her in the eye."

"You really are Griss's dirty little mistress, aren't you?" Nick laughed, enjoying the company and his friend's efforts, while not admitting it. "Tell me, is he gonna make an honest woman out of you some day soon?"

"I don't like to talk about marriage," she squirmed, feeling strongly opposed to marriage most of the time.

"Oh sure," Nick slapped his thigh and laughed, "you can talk 'til the cows come home about me gettin' it on with Greg, but I ask you a wholesome marriage question and your mouth shuts tighter than a clam shell. I stand by my claim…you're a dirty little mistress. DLM, that's your new nickname. DLM!"

"No, I'm not a DLM, I'm a significant other," she corrected. "An SO."

"I remember you bein' anti-marriage when we were workin' that case at Cupid's Kiss too."

"The one where your truck full of evidence got stolen?" she tweaked.

"I've blocked that part." He shook off the bad memory. "Every time marriage came up you tossed a wet blanket on the subject."

"Yeah, and Greg said weddings were all about scoring with drunk desperate chicks," she snickered. "I don't think I was the only one fronting while we worked that case. You, however, said marriage is a public declaration of love."

"That's right, and I stand by my words."

"Well, I like my declarations of love to be private," Sara explained. "That doesn't make them less meaningful, it just means I don't want strangers involved in my most intimate moments. When the time comes for you tell Greg those three letter words, I really doubt you'll be grabbing a microphone."

"I was waitin' on you to turn it around to me and G." Laughing at his friend, Nick shook his head, "I've got your number, DLM."

"Maybe by the time you two are ready to commit, gay marriage will be legal in Nevada."

"Forty-two!" He made another hash mark. "Doncha think I should at least hold his hand before I start pickin' out China patterns? I've been out to you for four hours, Sara, I still can't believe I am out, to be honest. This ride is like a freaky dream to me. I keep expectin' to see munchkins drivin' the car next to us and the road to be suddenly paved in yellow bricks."

"Wow. Over the Rainbow symbolism," Sara stated approvingly, "I'm impressed."

He winked. "I always was the teacher's pet in school, and I'm thinkin' the sooner I prove myself, the quicker the torture will end."

"It's not torture, it's initiation by fire, and that's a proven method of desensitization. After this car trip from hell, talking to Greg will be easy…unless you're too busy making up for lost time to have a conversation."

"I'm ignoring that last part." Nick squirmed in his seat. "I'm still tryin' to figure out what I'm gonna say when I see him."

"Like Greg will let you get a word in edgewise."

"Very true." Nick's lips curved into a smile. "He talks more than a preacher on Sunday, and just like back in church, sometimes I fall asleep sittin' there listenin' to him ramble, and when I wake up, he's still on the same subject."

"Isn't it funny how someone's bad habit becomes endearing once you care about him? And when your guy isn't home, you think you'll be happy for a reprieve, but then you find yourself sitting in the empty house missing his annoying behavior. Instead of being happy for a break, I got scared. It was a harsh reminder of how I had just spent the last decade of my life, and suddenly I wanted Grissom and his roaches back in my living room."

"I hear ya…except the bug part, that's messed up." Vulnerability returning to his voice, Nick said, "I had forgotten how quiet my place was before Greg moved in. When I woke up yesterday, I thought I was in the morgue. That's why I called him."

"You missed his voice," Sara stated, thinking of Gil.

"Yeah." Nick breathed out. "And we were havin' a great conversation, and he was excited about goin' to Catalina, doin' it all for me, because I said I was stressed and needed a break. Then I end up screamin' at him and pullin' the rug out from under him, hangin' up, not callin' back, not callin' when I got the news about his paper. He must think I hate him by now."

"Yeah, he's driving Grissom crazy," Sara shared. "When we stopped at the Rest Area for a pee break, I called and he told me that Greg was moping around the Long Beach Aquarium saying he wanted to be a fish because they didn't have emotions and were never lonely because they traveled in schools, but if he were a fish, they'd expel him and he still wouldn't have a date on Saturday night."

"Seriously?" Nick stifled his laughter with his hand. "I guess you're right about him bein' the girl in the relationship, huh?"

"He's more of a girl than I'll ever be." Chuckling, she transitioned onto the exit ramp. "Drive-thru or dine-in?"

"Gotta use the men's room." Knowing Greg was so blue, he felt compelled to call and make things right.

"Don't call him!"

Nick laughed. "I guess you're not just a great CSI and therapist, you're a pretty good mind reader too."

"We have a plan! We're surprising our guys," she huffed. "Grissom thinks I called him from home. I really want to shock the hell out of him. This is me trying my hardest to be a girly girl, to be romantic, I have lace and candles in my suitcase for crying out loud. Don't ruin the surprise."

"Okay, okay." He handed over his cell phone. "Keep it."

After parking the car, she snatched the phone. "Do you have any gum left?"

"Yeah, you want some?"

"No, I want you and Greg to put it in your ears later, because apparently the hotel walls are paper thin, and I expect my romantic surprise to be very successful."

"Yeah, well…I don't plan on spendin' a lot of time in Greg's hotel room, so have at it."

"Afraid you'll be tempted to make up for lost time?" she teased. "I saw Brokeback Mountain, I know what happens when a repressed guy decides to go for it."

"I've never seen it and suddenly I'm more afraid than ever to watch it." Opening the restaurant's door, Nick said, "You're buyin' me lunch for scorchin' me with your Initiation by Fire therapy."

"I was planning on it," she replied while walking into the restaurant. "What do you want?"

"Peace and quiet on the next leg of the drive." He feigned surprise. "Oh! Did you mean what do I want to eat? The usual, two double burgers animal style."

"Animal style, huh?" She lowered her sunglasses. "Poor Greggo."

"There's a **family** dinin' over there, Sidle. Jeeez, you thirty-somethin' women are somethin' else, it's all about sex and/or babies. Poor Griss, he must see more action than a Kentucky stud horse." Whispering in her ear, he teased, "Does he take Viagra or do you have a vibrator on hand when he's not up to meetin' your insatiable needs? I bet that's why you don't want to marry him, you're worried he'll fall apart in a few years."

Standing in the corner of the restaurant, Sara blurted her fear, "My reluctance to marry has nothing to do with Grissom, and everything to do with watching my father beat my mother until the day she couldn't take it anymore and killed him."

Stunned by the now obvious reason, Nick stammered, "I'm…I'm really sorry, Sara, I…I shoulda realized that before runnin' off my mouth." Feeling terrible, he dropped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I promise not to razz you about it anymore. It's an off-limits topic as of now, okay?"

"No, I'm sorry for tossing my wet blanket again. I didn't mean to, I was having a great time. I do this at home with Gil too," she sighed, hating the depressing habit she couldn't seem to break. "We'll be home joking around and then I'll blurt something horrible about my childhood and bring the levity to a grinding halt."

"That's a good thing though, it means that you're comfortable enough to open up, as opposed to a dating situation where you're always on guard not to say things you believe will make the other person check their watch, counting the seconds until they're free of the psycho sharing their table. Griss is your SO and I'm your SIB, stand-in brother. You're comfortable with me and that makes me feel good, because I know I shared my deepest secret with a person who trusts me with their innermost thoughts. I'm sure Grissom feels the same way."

"I never thought about that way." Her smile returned. "That's good."

"Yep, it's all good." He breathed deep. "And so is the smell in this place."

"Really? All I smell is dead cow."

"How about you wait outside, Sis, I'll order you French Fries and a Grilled Cheese?"

"Thanks, Bro."

"And hey…" A consummate gentleman, he leaned in whispering, "Sorry about the vibrator joke."

* * *

"Are you hungry?" Warrick asked Catherine as they strolled out of the lab, ready to start their negotiated R&R. "Wanna grab a late lunch with me? Maybe catch a movie after?" 

"Can't," she answered with regret. "I have plans."

"Man or vibrator," he joked. "I'm tryin' to size up the competition, y'know?"

"Lindsay," she informed her future boyfriend, who she was pleased to know was officially throwing his hat into the ring. "She needs a prom dress."

"Wow. Little Lindsay is all grown up and old enough to be goin' to the prom. When the hell did that happen?"

"It's not her prom, it's her date's prom, so she's not quite that old yet, but…" Catherine released the labored sigh of a mother worried she was headed over the hill, "she's almost sixteen, Warrick. If you're shocked, how the hell do you think I feel? I'm old enough to have a sixteen year old daughter."

"In this town, there are thirty year olds with sixteen year old daughters."

"Back when I was fourteen, I would have been mortified to get pregnant and have a kid, but now I'm going to start saying I had Lindsay at fourteen, so people think I'm thirty." Catching her reflection in a window, she sighed, "Not that anyone will believe me, except the blind."

"Hey now, don't be doggin' yourself." He opened the door for his appearance-conscious friend. "You are a stunning woman, Cath, with a body that makes heads turn."

"The heads used to belong to twenty-five year old guys, but lately they're on the shoulders of lecherous sixty year olds, who can't score with the hot young things in this town."

"You got plans tomorrow night?" Warrick asked when they reached Catherine's car.

"Nope."

"You do now," he possessively informed her. "You better dress up too, because I'm takin' you out on the town."

"Is this a pity date?"

"Only if you run off to be with another man at the end of the night."

"Or my vibrator, right?"

"Eight o'clock, I'll pick you up."

"It's a date."

"Good." Leaning in, he whispered, "Sorry about the vibrator joke."

* * *

"Much better," Grissom praised his protégé, who had just run through his section of their presentation for the third time. "That's the rate of speech you need to use tomorrow." 

"I talk really fast when I'm anxious," Greg told his boss, "and since my personal life is shit, and this is my first big Forensics presentation, and my asshole ex-friend Jeff left a message on my hotel room phone saying he plans to sit front and center, I'm not sure I can pull off a relaxed tone and persona tomorrow." Glancing around the enormous university lecture hall, he apologized, "I'm really sorry, but I know my limitations, you're going to be presenting with a Mexican Jumping Bean."

"I could bar Jeff from attending the lecture."

"No, he'd love to know he's tweaking me." Greg shook his head. "My mom said the best revenge is to prove I'm happy and successful in spite of him. That's what I need to do."

Once again feeling bad for the guy who had a rough year, Grissom spoke in a paternal tone, "I'll be right on the podium with you, if you get in a jam, don't worry. Tonight, make sure you get plenty of sleep, and don't drink any caffeine in the morning."

"Maybe I should down a bottle or two from the mini bar for breakfast."

"No, we can't have you reeking of alcohol and acting goofy." Grissom lowered his voice, "What's the dosage and dispensing instructions of your Valium?"

"2mg, take one for daytime anxiety, two before bed to sleep, max six per day, but I don't take it that often anymore, only when I can't sleep or wake up from a nightmare."

"And how does it affect you?"

"One chills me out and makes me a little silly, two knocks me out."

"You think a half in the morning would help, but not make you slow on the uptake?"

"Yeah, probably," Greg nodded, "I think that would work."

"Okay, do that." Grissom gave his anxiety-ridden colleague his car keys. "Now take my car back to the hotel and see if you can get a massage at the spa. At a minimum, spend some time in the Jacuzzi tub in your suite. That way you'll be relaxed for this evening's conference launch."

"What are you going to do?"

"There's an afternoon tea in the faculty lounge. I'm going to do a little networking for the lab. I use these conferences to establish connections with experts in various fields, so I have people to call when we need to bring in a specialist. I'll get a ride back from someone staying at the hotel."

"Is that how that works? I wondered." Greg jingled the keys. "I'll treat your baby right, don't worry."

"Don't screw with my radio stations!"

"Yes, Dad!" Greg laughed on the way to the door. "And I'll remember to take my condom wrappers out of the backseat so I don't get busted like I did in high school!"

"I sincerely hope you're joking!"

"Of course I am," Greg shouted from the open door, "I don't have a sex life!" As he shut the door, he saw Jeff standing in the hallway waiting to pounce and kicked himself for the careless admission.

"Surprise!" Jeff announced. "I'd be more than happy to fill that sex life void for you."

"I'd sleep with a sheep before you."

Grinning at his future lover, Jeff said, "I peeked through the window, you looked great up on stage. I can't wait to hear you present tomorrow."

"I told my mother about you surprising me here."

"Still talking to your mommy on a daily basis, huh?"

"Yeah, I'm a lucky guy that way." After a steadying breath, Greg said, "My mother was livid and when Jan gets edgy, she's a force to be reckoned with. She looked up your wife and called her." When he saw Jeff tense, he relaxed, "You didn't come out to your wife a few months ago, she confronted you when a guy came to your home looking for the guy he hooked up with in Salt Lake last year. Not that you had any of my respect before, but as of this morning, you were **still **lying to me and that's…you know, why am I even wasting my breath talking to you?"

"You lied to me this morning too!" Jeff shouted as he chased after his ex-roommate. "You said you were with someone."

"I am." Greg marched down the university's hall, hating the irony of being back at school with Jeff.

"You just said you don't have a sex life."

"I was joking with my boss."

"Keep lying to yourself and playing hard to get, I love it," Jeff needled as they raced down the stairs. "I'm not perfect, I'll admit it. That's why I came here to see you. I need to be rescued from myself. Accept the challenge, make me a better man. You know deep down you want me, just as much as I want you. First love never dies. You loved me and I loved you too, that's why I gave you the watch."

"Screw you!" Greg yelled once they were out of the building.

"I prefer it the other way around." Pulling his ex around the corner of the building, for privacy, Jeff breathlessly said, "But I'll make an exception for you. You can have me any way you want me," he pressed his palm to Greg's cheek, "just have me."

"Okay, here's how I want you." Greg forcefully shoved him away. "I want you on a plane back to Seattle!"

"I know on paper I seem like an ass, but…check this out," Jeff reached into his pocket for the Omega box and when it was snatched out his hands, his heart soared. "It's been in a bag hidden in a shoebox in my closet. Doesn't that tell you something?"

"It should." Greg clicked on the mini-flashlight hanging on Grissom's keys and cracked open the watch box. "Right there. Blood spatter. My blood!" He launched the watch at Jeff's head, happy that he hit him in the third eye. "You were right, it did speak to me. It said 'Run, Greg, run! Because Jeff is a violent, dishonest, pathetic excuse of a man, and he'll never change.'"

"I knew it! You still love me!" Watching his emotional friend storm off, Jeff rubbed the latest bruise on his face and smiled. "He loves me."

"Much better," Sara told her reflection as she stood in front of the mirrored closet doors in her man's hotel room. Staring at the lacey lingerie she had been saving for a special occasion, she broke into a naughty smile. _He's going to love this surprise. _With Gil's back injury, they had been on a restricted sex diet, but she planned to wow her man with a few less strenuous tricks she knew they would both enjoy.

Grinning, she walked over to the adjoining door between Grissom and Greg's suites and knocked. "Are you ready for your man?"

"Don't you have liquid latex or somethin' to put on, Sidle! Leave me alone and worry about your own damn love life!" Nick was pacing the floor and watching ESPN to calm himself down.

"Wow, these walls really are paper thin," Sara remarked, making a mental note to put a pillow over her face during the critical moment later.

"Are your rose petals spread out yet?" Nick asked through the shared middle door, hoping she'd go through with his idea.

"Just getting to it!"

"Okay, I'm shutting the extra door on my side, because I don't want to hear you gettin' it on. Have fun!"

"You too." She shut the extra door on her side hoping it would provide a little more privacy, and then grabbed a red rose from the dresser. Sliding onto the bed, she giggled like a schoolgirl. "I can't believe I'm doing this." She started plucking. "He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me."

* * *

Unable to schedule a massage appointment for that afternoon, Greg decided to return to his room and soak in the Jacuzzi tub for a while like Grissom had suggested. _Maybe I'll accidentally drown and be spared the rest of my miserable life. _Tears forming in his eyes, he slid the key card into the door. _Maybe I'll increase the odds by leaving the blow dryer teetering on the edge of the_… 

"I hope you don't mind, but I let myself in," Nick quietly greeted his stunned buddy from the center of the room. Just like Sara had assured, he immediately had his answer. Looking into Greg's glassy eyes, he knew he was in the right place, with the perfect person, and ready to begin a new chapter in his life. "Surprised?"

"Yeah, I am." Greg squeaked as he released the door, letting it shut behind him. The way his luck was going, he was certain Nick was there to beat the crap out of him. "Why are you here?" He clutched the handle of his laptop bag like a security blanket.

His heart hammering in his chest, Nick stalled, "Why am I here?" The speech he had prepared and practiced was suddenly gone. "Why am I here?" he parroted as his stomach knotted and flipped. "I'm…I'm here to talk to you."

* * *

**ANs:**

I hope Nick seemed anxious but relieved and excited to be on his way to a new beginning. He's not about to go from 0 to 60, but he's definitely ready for forward motion (especially thanks to Sara). A lot of you really enjoyed the Nick and Sara friendship in the last chapter, and this chapter was meant to really solidify their bond. Grissom's paternal side was showing, while Sara was trying to be a girl. All the characters are trying out different modes. I tossed some YoBling in there to break up the scenes and get Nick and Sara to Long Beach : )

In case you were wondering - In and Out Burger really does make Grilled Cheese, it's on their 'no so secret anymore menu' along with Nick's Animal Style burger.

And I found out that there is a World Championship Cockroach Race held annually! Who knew?

**Thanks for reading!  
****Maggs**


	21. Chapter 21: Courage in a Bottle

**Where You Are  
****Written By: Ms. Maggs / Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 21: Courage in a Bottle**

After watching Nick stand still as a statue for a full minute, Greg prompted, "For a guy who's here to talk to me, you're not saying much. How did you get in my room anyway?"

Startled by his buddy's voice, Nick jumped, "Sorry, I zoned out for minute. What?"

"I asked how you got in here."

"I flirted with Mandy at the front desk. She's real nice. She grew up in Fort Worth."

"I should have guessed," Greg groaned.

"I told her you were my stepbrother. I said I came here to surprise you at your first big conference, and she let me have a key. After gettin' in here, I broke into Griss's room through the adjoining doors. Sara's next door waitin' to surprise him."

"She's going to be waiting a while, because Griss is meeting with people at the university."

"That's a bummer, because she's good to go." Nick explained, "She drove me here, because I was a little too stressed from the day's events. Did um…Griss happen to mention that I'm on leave and the team's on R&R?"

"I heard it all from Catherine when I checked in this morning," Greg flatly replied, grateful that he had taken a Valium after his confrontation with Jeff, so his edginess wouldn't show as much. "I was worried about you, I still am. I wanted to call you when I heard what happened, and I would have called, but I promised I'd wait for you to call me back, and I'm a man of my word."

"I appreciate you givin' me time when I asked for it." Nick gulped down the latest lump in his throat and walked forward, reducing the gap between them to a few feet. "I used that time to do some thinkin', and then Sara helped me work through some serious issues today. She was a big help actually, I think you're gonna wanna buy her flowers or somethin', because thanks to her, I'm not the same guy who hung up the phone yesterday, not by a mile. Hell, when I used your bathroom here, I caught my reflection in the mirror and I didn't even recognize myself." He chuckled for a second. "I saw your Valium bottle on the counter and helped myself, I hope you don't mind. Some law enforcement officer I am, huh? Conning the desk clerk for a key, breakin' into Grissom's room, and illegal drug use. See, I told you I'm unrecognizable. Thank God the Valium is kickin' in real good, because I... "

"Why are you here?" Greg interrupted in his most vulnerable voice. Staring into his friend's deep brown eyes, he pleaded, "I can't wait any more. Please tell me why you're here, Cletus."

When the nervous man heard the nickname that he always suspected was a stealthy substitute for a traditional term of endearment like honey or babe, he was reminded of Greg's affection. _He wants me. Look at him, he's chewing his bottom lip, waiting with baited breath. All I have to do is say I feel the same way and we'll be a couple. Oh my God!_ _I can't do this! In one minute, my entire life could change._ But Sara's words echoed in his head and he knew a change was exactly what was needed. _'Good enough is no way to live, I'd say it's not really living at all'_. Seeing his desperate buddy's hands trembling, he found the motivation to forge on. _My life sucks, so does his. We both need this. It'll be good. Deep down, I know it will._

"Please," Greg begged with his eyes. "I've had a really bad day."

_For cryin' out loud, you know the poor guy was moping around the aquarium earlier wishin' he was a fish so he wouldn't be lonely, don't keep him waiting!_ "Sorry, it's the Valium, I keep spacing. I'm here to answer the question you asked me on the phone. Remember, we were talkin', and you asked me to go to Catalina Island and I said yes, but then you were worried that I was gonna stow girls on the boat and I said no, I wouldn't, because I just want to be with you. Do you remember that conversation?"

"Only every word," Greg replied as his pulse skyrocketed from waiting for the definitive answer.

"Well, you asked if I meant I only wanted to be together on Catalina Island or did I want to be with you in a more general sense…a romantic sense I suppose is what you were asking. I'm here to tell you that my answer is…" Seeing the love in Greg's eyes, he pushed out the word, "No."

"No?" The word smacked Greg in the face. "You came all the way here to tell me **no**, you don't want to be together in a general, romantic sense?"

"What? No!" Nick rushed to clarify. "No, I don't want it to only be on the trip." Gripping his head, which housed his overtaxed mind, he sighed, "Shit. I got confused. I guess my answer should have been yes, instead of no, because, oh hell, I don't even remember what I said in the first place." Giving up he huffed, "The bottom line is…I want you. I want you on Catalina Island, in Vegas, all the time, generally, romantically, in every sense of the word." Seeing Greg's face explode with excitement, he gasped, "Holy shit, I can't believe I just said that out loud."

"Me either!" Greg lunged for a hug.

"Hold up!" Nick rushed backwards, out of his buddy's reach. "I want you, but not quickly. I want you slowly. **Very** slowly." He took another step backwards, putting ten feet between them. "Like snail's pace slow."

"I was just going to hug you," Greg sweetly laughed, realizing his buddy thought he wanted to jump him. "I promise, no buttons unbuttoning, no zippers unzipping." When he took a step forward and saw Nick take another step back, he teased, "Look, if anyone should be worried here, it's me and my virgin ass, because I saw Brokeback Mountain, I know what can happen when a guy encourages a repressed cowboy to come out and play. I'm presenting at the conference in the morning, I can't afford to be too sore to get out of bed." As the blood drained from Nick's face, he chuckled again, "All joking aside, what I'm saying is...snail's pace slow is fine with me. We'll handle our physical relationship like we did the phone call, okay? I'll wait for you to make the moves, every step of the way."

"You said, virgin ass, so you haven't…uh…" Even with Valium in his veins, Nick couldn't relax enough to finish the sentence.

"Gone all the way?" Greg kindly put his buddy out of his misery. "With women, yes, but with guys, no."

As hard as it was to talk about, Nick's curiosity forced him to keep asking questions, "So, this is new for you too? Because until this morning, when Sara dragged me out of the closet kicking and screaming, I've never dealt with this part of me. Is that how…"

"No, I've been actively attracted to both sexes since puberty, fooled around equally with both, meaning everything but all the way, but I don't have sex without serious intimacy, and I've never been with a guy I felt that close to." Trying to simplify matters for his flustered friend, Greg summarized, "When I fall for a person, their gender is an afterthought, and for a while now, the person I've fallen for is you. I've been hoping that you felt the same way, so what you just said to me blew my mind." His smile filled the room. "I'm thrilled this is happening, what about you?"

His mind officially reaching maximum capacity, Nick very eloquently replied, "Uh huh."

_Uh huh? I just told you I've fallen for you and I'm thrilled and you say 'uh huh'?! That's good enough for me! Yesssssss!_ After a couple of choppy breaths and no noise from Nick, Greg felt compelled to fill the dead air by overtalking, "I can't believe you're still petrified to come near me. Come on, you have to know this isn't about me wanting your ass. If all I wanted was a guy to have sex with, that wouldn't be a problem living in Vegas. That night we went out on the double date from hell, the bartender gave me his phone number. I get propositioned all the time. I could be with a DNA guy attending this conference as I speak. I swear I don't want to jump into bed, I want to take things slow just like you."

In silence, Nick checked off one huge concern from his lengthy mental list of worries.

"Okay, uh…just in case I didn't get you at hello, here's my big Jerry McGuire moment." With his hand on his chest, Greg bared his soul, "For me, my attraction to you is about the friendship we have, the bond we've built for the last eight years, working side by side, getting to know what makes each other tick. It's about how you get me, that you can tolerate me when most people can't, how you even humor my mother, just because you know she's important to me. It's about how you can cheer me up on a bad day like no one else can." Emotion swamping his voice, he continued, "And it's not just about what you can do for me, it's about me knowing that you need someone who understands what you've been through, and what you see on the job. It's about me wanting to be that person who helps make life better for you, by doing little things like cooking your favorite burrito, or making you laugh at the end of a shitty day, or by helping you through bigger stuff, like the breakdown you had this morning, or any family problems that might come up. It's all of that." With a nervous laugh, he admitted, "And I won't lie, it's about the physical too. Every time you invade personal my space, my mind slips into fantasy mode, and dude…you've been invading my personal space **a lot **lately. I have a mental Top 100 list of things I'd like to do with you, and while some are risqué, most are innocent and fun. Like taking the boat to Catalina Island for example, or watching the sunset from the hammock at my family's vacation house in Maui. The list is always in flux, but currently, as lame as this sounds, the number one thing I want to do with you is relax in your arms while watching TV." His sweet laughter filled the room again, "Because you have been sitting **two inches** away from me since the day I moved in and I've wanted to close that gap **so **many times that it's become an obsession. Number two involves me sleeping in your bed, just sleeping, not sex, but I have to be honest," he joked, "that fantasy might have more to do with your deluxe bedding than you."

Blown away by the sentiment behind Greg's words and by the sheer volume of them, Nick stood quietly, struggling to absorb it all_. I thought one of the benefits of dating a guy would mean a lot less talking about how we feel_. Then he remembered Sara saying that Greg was a much bigger girl than she'd ever be and he broke into a goofy grin. _At least he won't get PMS and leave tampon wrappers on the floor._

"So, what do you think about all that, Cletus?" A radiant smile dominating his face, Greg took a step forward. "Still worried it's just about me wanting your ass?"

"No," Nick replied with relief in his voice. "Thanks for takin' off some of the pressure, because this is a really stressful day for me, and the less I have to worry about, the better."

"I can't believe you were worried I'd jump you in the first place," Greg laughed. "Since we're happily drugged and being brutally honest, I'll tell you that I've always imagined our roles in bed would mirror our work roles. When it's just you and me, you insist on driving the Denali and being in charge of the scene, right? Well…"

"Yeah, that's the way it's consistently been in my fantasies," Nick laughed. "I think I just confessed to dreaming about you sexually."

"You did and now I need a second to find my jaw, because it dropped on the floor."

"Ha! Hey, Sara made the same joke about the Denali by the way," Nick laughed with his buddy, happy to be beyond the initial shock of the situation. "The same Brokeback Mountain joke you did too."

"She really helped you out, huh?"

"She was so great." His whole body loosening up, Nick finally relaxed his guarded stance. "Then she tortured me with gay talk the entire drive here. She had a field day. It was worse than sittin' through the health films we had to watch in sixth grade. That reminds me, she wants me to ask if you've always practiced safe sex and when was the last time you were tested for HIV and STDs."

"Wow, she really was thorough," Greg covered his mouth and laughed. "I was an Eagle Scout, remember? So I was always prepared and responsible. I'm happy to report that all test results have been negative."

"Same here. Well, except I was only a Boy Scout," Nick laughed. "Sara will be so proud of me for gettin' that out. I won't tell her about the Valium assist."

"And I will definitely be sending her flowers," Greg said, still dying for a hug, but sticking to his promise not to move first. "I can't believe she got you to come out with one conversation."

"I'm still in shock to be honest, but I know this is the right thing to do, and what I want." Getting serious again, Nick confessed, "Some things, like sex, still seem really wrong when I think about how other people would feel, like my family. They can't know about me, at least not for a while, maybe never, I don't know, but you need to promise me you won't tell."

"I promise."

"Do your parents know about you?"

"They suspected for a while, but I only came out to them recently. That fruit basket my dad sent, that was his way of making sure I knew he still loved me."

"Is that why he sent it?" Nick smiled at the memory. "You were so happy to get it. My dad won't be sendin' gifts if I ever tell him. He'll probably send a registered letter disowning me." Sharply clearing his throat, he said, "I don't want to get down, I want to be happy. Let's be happy."

"Let's!" Greg hoped happy included a hug, but it didn't. "My dad has been wishing we'd get together, because he wants someone to watch sports with when he visits. My parents really like you, so I hope you'll be okay with them knowing, because they'll be supportive and most importantly, they'll let us use their house in Maui as a getaway."

"Seriously? I always wanted to go to Maui. Yeah, we can tell your parents, as long as they don't tell anyone else. I really like Dave and Jan. I got the funniest feeling that your dad was grillin' me like a prospective boyfriend when he took us for steak."

"He was. He gave me a thumbs up after dinner."

"I can't believe I'm having this conversation. It's completely surreal." The Valium and the discussion making him dizzy, Nick leaned against the nearest wall for balance. "So, just your parents and Sara, although I imagine Griss is a given now too."

"You okay?"

"Just a little dizzy."

Greg walked over, in case Nick needed a hand. "Grissom knows I'm Bi, but I assured him that you were a ladies man through and through. Maybe Mandy at the front desk can be your beard for the conference," he joked, before sobering. "Speaking of you being a ladies man, we really haven't said what this is that we have here. I'd hope after what I said, you'd know I'm not interested in other people. I know it's kind of weird to be serious, because technically we've not dated, or…"

"Aww." All inhibition removed, Nick boldly took Greg's shaky hand in his. "Are you like askin' me to go steady, G?"

"Did you take one Valium or two?" Greg queried, concerned his buddy was getting pretty loopy.

"Two," Nick answered while holding up one finger.

Greg laughed, "Good thing we didn't want to have sex, because I don't know about you, but chill pills make every part of my body relax."

"Same here, yep." Nick explained, "I packed in a rush and didn't bring my Xanax with me. I figured two of your low-dose Valium was equivalent to my Xanax dosage, but I'm thinkin' it might be a little stronger." Nick sweetly chuckled while grabbing Greg's other hand, "We have a lot in common, G. We're both so mentally messed up from doin' our jobs and almost dyin' that we take anti-anxiety meds for PTSD and insomnia. That's pathetically sweet, isn't it? Maybe we'll cure each other, what do you think?"

"I think there's a chance that we might. I'm looking forward to having someone to snuggle up to when I can't fall asleep at night."

"Oh yeah, yeah, me too," Nick agreed. "I haven't woken up with anyone since the kidnapping. I couldn't risk it, because of the freak outs, but you know all about my problems, so I don't have to worry."

"That's right." His hands laced with Nick's, Greg released a blissful sigh. "Let's hear it for Benzos, because without the chemical assistance, I really doubt we'd be getting this comfortable this fast."

"Hell no," Nick confessed, "I am **so** relaxed. I feel like I've been gay my whole life."

"You have been gay your whole life, Cletus, you've just never acted on it."

"Right, right." Nick spoke through a smile, "I swallowed my pills with some Jack Daniels I swiped from the mini-bar. Not smart." He slurred, "But after the shit day I've had, I needed to chill, and here I am…chillin' with my boyfriend, holdin' his hands."

"So, I'm your boyfriend," Greg stated while swaying back and forth, getting a little closer to his man's face with each pass.

"Or are you my significant other?" Nick queried as his legs grew weaker.

"I believe that depends on whether or not you think I'm significant. Do you?"

"I do, I really do." Nick murmured, "Do you still want that hug?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

Wrapping his arms around Greg's waist, Nick tugged him close. "This feels incredibly weird and normal at the same time."

"It feels perfect to me." Resting his head on his buddy's shoulder, Greg closed his eyes and breathed in the familiar scents he loved. "I couldn't stop thinking about the hug at Grissom's yesterday."

"Me either." Nick's eyelids fell and he lost himself in the embrace, successfully blocking all thoughts of impropriety within seconds.

"I missed you last night."

"I missed you too. I went into your room, because I missed you."

"I wore your sweatshirt," Greg stated, as if he were competing for 'most pathetic'.

"I sniffed your pillow…a lot." Nick cringed, "I can't believe I copped to that."

_You win!_ When his boyfriend of ten minutes started gliding his palms over his back, a shiver of delight surged through Greg's body. "That feels nice."

"It does." Surprised that he wasn't at all repulsed by the intimacy, Nick deepened his touch. "I really thought I wouldn't like this."

"I knew you would." Leaving his left hand pressed against Nick's lower back, he slid his right upward until it reached his man's hair. Fingers threading through the dark locks, he was grateful it had grown back, so there was something to grip and tug. "Mmm, promise me you won't shave your hair again."

"Funny you should say that," Nick chuckled into Greg's wavy mop. "After feelin' you run your fingers through it like that, I was just thinkin' there's no way in hell I'm shavin' it again." He clamped his arms tighter. "It's just a friggin' hug, but I think this is the most erotic thing I've ever done."

"Don't let go."

"Don't worry, I'm not." Swaying their bodies ever so slightly, Nick brought his mouth to his partner's ear, "You ever feel as good in another man's arms?"

Greg moved his head, so he could answer while gazing into Nick's eyes, "Being with you is light years away from every other guy combined."

Resting his palm on Greg's flushed cheek, the content cowboy grinned, "Good answer." His eyes drifted to the pair of moist, parted lips directly in front of him. Suddenly what had seemed like an incredibly unnatural desire yesterday when considered out of context, felt like the most natural craving in the world in his future lover's arms.

Foreheads touching, and their first kiss imminent, Greg rasped, "Tell me that you're not going to screw girls anymore."

"Are you the possessive type, G?"

"I'm the monogamous, committed type."

"Me too," Nick confirmed as he gently gripped his significant other's face. "And possessive, I won't be amused if I catch you flirtin' with another guy."

"Why would I flirt with another guy, when I only want you?"

Having what was surely an out of body experience, Nick stated, "No more girls, no more boys. From here on out, it's just you and me."

"Sounds like a perfect arrangement," Greg answered with his mouth an inch away from the lips he'd kissed a thousand times in his dreams. "I promised never to make the first move, but I can still cheer you on." He could smell the essence of Jack Daniels and subconsciously licked his lips, dying for a taste. "Go for it. You know you want to."

The room spinning from the Valium, and his mind reeling from the forbidden passion he wanted to indulge, Nick closed his eyes and blurted the silly thought that popped into his head, "But if I kiss you, I'll be gay."

"Aww, Cletus." Greg brushed his reply over his reluctant partner's lips, "You're gay no matter what you do, the kissing is just a perk."

"You're…right…yeah," Nick answered in a barely audible whisper, just before passing out.

"No, no way! Wake up!" Greg caught his drugged boyfriend before he hit the floor. "Ugh! The moment was perfect." His dreams of a first kiss dashed, he tugged Nick over to the bed. "Why'd you have to take **two** Valium?" he sadly asked while struggling to get the lifeless body onto the bed. "Oh well, it was great while it lasted." Watching his partner's chest gently rise and fall, he considered stealing the kiss he had been cruelly denied, but opted to wait for a mutual smooch. "You had a busy day, Cletus." Leaning over, he stroked his hair. "Rest up." _I hope Sara's having better luck next door._

* * *

Three hours after excitedly tossing rose petals, Sara was sprawled on the bed surrounded by discarded snack wrappers and opening her fifth mini-bar rum bottle. _He's probably giving his roaches baths and pep talks._ With the remote in one hand and a Captain Morgan's in the other, she crashed back against the pillows. _The TV channels were better in the no-tell motel in Kingman._ Noting the Pay-per-View buttons, she decided to order a movie. 

_Ooh, __The Good Shepard__, the promo for that looked good._ But in her tipsy condition, she accidentally pressed the wrong buttons. _Ugh, I think I just ordered the remake of Charlotte's Web._

By the time Sara finished washing down her last bite of brownie with rum, she noticed a naked woman on TV. "This isn't Charlotte's Web." Squinting, she saw the title was actually Charlene's Web. "I ordered porn." She burst out laughing._ I really am a dirty little mistress now. Nick would be so proud._

Tossing the fifth empty bottle of liquid courage onto the bed, she settled in to laugh at the no-doubt ridiculous softcore plot about to unfold. "Pool boy!" _It's always a pool boy or a pizza guy._ "Think of the germs, bimbo!"

While laughing on the bed, Sara heard the unmistakable sound of Greg yelling out in pain next door. "Sounds like someone just lost his cherry," she laughed into her hand.

* * *

Rubbing his bumped head, Greg grabbed the plastic bag draped over the empty ice bucket. _Ugh, I already have a knot the size of an egg. _While snacking and surfing the Internet, he had bent down to pick up a rolling peanut M&M and forcibly whacked his skull against the sharp point of the desk. 

"I'll probably get swarmed by killer bees at the ice machine," he grumbled on his way out of the room.

* * *

"Just your luck, pool boy, the bimbo has a friend," Sara droned while opening a pack of powdered sugar donut holes. "Dammit!" Sugar all over her black lace chemise, she jumped off the bed to clean herself up, but froze when she heard the sound of a keycard sliding into the door. _**Now**__ he shows up, when I look like a slob! _"Surprise!" After furiously brushing sugar off her sex-wear, she posed. "Your dirty little mistress is at your service!" 

Gil froze at the sight of his significant other posing like a stripper. "Sara?"

Terri Miller, who had given her colleague a ride to the hotel after a good laugh about their awkward parting years ago, was equally stunned. "Isn't that your employee, Gil?" the Forensic Anthropologist queried while surveying the bed covered in wrappers and empty liquor bottles. "Why is she watching porn in your hotel room? And my God, is that cocaine powder on her face?"

"What is she doing here?" Sara asked when she finally got over the shock of seeing her man walking into his hotel room with an old flame. "I need air." Determined not to speak until she was less confused, she grabbed the comforter off the floor, wrapped it around her, and zipped out of the room.

"Aren't you going to go after her, Gil?" Terri prodded. "Or have you learned nothing about women since our last date?" The scientist shook her head, grateful to be happily married for the last three years to a man who wasn't an emotional cripple. "Just give me the copy of Greg Sanders's paper and I'll let you get on with not handling your personal life." During their meeting she had mentioned that she was pulling together a symposium in Vegas and might be interested in a presentation by the man whose paper Gil had raved about.

"It's right over here." Like a robot, Gil walked to the desk and grabbed a copy. "Thank you for the ride."

* * *

"Sara?" Knotting his bag of ice, Greg walked over to his friend who was sitting on a bench wrapped in a comforter. "What's going on?" 

"Terri Miller," Sara snipped. "She used to date Grissom. She was a bitch to me in the bathroom at the lab, and when my significant other came back to his hotel room just now, she was with him."

"I'm sure there's an innocent explanation."

"Me too," she sighed, "but I couldn't think of one, because I'm a little drunk from emptying out the mini bar when I was bored for the last three hours, so I walked out." Tears formed in her eyes. "Do you have any idea how many germs are on this comforter I have tucked around me? They never wash these things. On top of being embarrassed and confused, I'm probably catching a disease." Glancing up, she saw her friend was holding a big bag of ice. "He really did a number on you, huh? I heard you scream."

"What are you…"

"You have an ass pack, I mean an ice pack." Sara winced, "Did the repressed cowboy go Brokeback Mountain on you? I was worried about that."

"No!" Busting into laughter, Greg explained, "It's for my head. I dropped an M&M and I slammed my skull into the point of the desk. Feel." He leaned over pointing to the egg-size lump.

"Ouch."

"Yeah." Holding the pack to his head, he took a seat on the bench next to his forlorn friend. "Nick took a couple of Valium and passed out."

"He had a really rough day."

"Thanks for helping him out."

"I was happy to help."

Staring at the sailboats gliding by, they sighed in harmony.

"Ms. Sidle!" Terri Miller walked over to the emotional girl who had always given her dirty looks when she visited LVPD. "I'm a happily married woman who wants nothing to do with Gil Grissom. You can have him. The man is as emotionally retarded as they come." Holding up a copy of the paper she had been given she shared, "Gil had mentioned this paper and I wanted a copy of it to see if I could work it into a symposium I'm conducting in Vegas later this year."

"That's my paper!" Greg stood and extended his hand. "Greg Sanders."

"Dr. Terri Miller." She happily shook the man's hand. "Gil spoke very highly of you."

"Really?"

"Yes, will you be at the launch tonight?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, we'll talk more about your paper then." Terri tapped her watch. "My husband is waiting for me, I need to run." Strolling off, she snickered, "Good luck with Gil, Ms. Sidle. You'll need it!"

When Greg saw his boss rushing down the path, he patted Sara's knee. "Looks like he caught a clue and came after you." Standing up, he took great pride in saying, "Hey, Hypocrite! When you're at a Forensics Conference representing LVPD, I'd appreciate it if you'd keep your love life private and your lover's quarrels behind closed doors!"

"I knew that was coming," Gil droned.

"Get a room, kids!" Greg gingerly walked away rubbing his ass and groaning for Sara's benefit.

"Mosey along, Jack Twist!" she yelled, appreciating the laugh. "I want privacy when I'm groveling." As soon as Greg was gone, she said, "Sorry, I should have been a big girl and stayed to hear your explanation, but I'm drunk and sugared up, because I've been waiting over three hours to surprise you with my sex kitten routine that Nick coached me on."

"I wondered who gave you the rose petals and porn idea."

"The porn was an accident."

"Surrrre," Gil teased while sliding his arm around Sara's slumping shoulders. "That's what they all say. I think you…"

"What?" Sara asked when her man stopped in mid-sentence. "What's wrong with…" When her words were cut off by her lover's passionate kiss, she gripped the bench in shock. "What has gotten into you?!" she laughingly asked when their two minute make-out session finally ended. "I almost passed out from lack of oxygen."

Watching his ex-lover, Lucy Wimberly, turn green with envy as she huffed by, Gil shook his head, "I don't know what came over me. Must be the salt air." He stood and clasped Sara's hand. "Let's get you out of that comforter and under a scalding shower."

"You know me so well." She beamed a smile at her man.

"Why did you come here, Sara?" Gil asked as they strolled down the path holding hands.

"Honestly?" She stopped and gazed into his dreamy blue eyes. "I missed the roaches."

Gil's mouth exploded into a giddy grin. "That's quite possibly the hottest thing a woman's ever said to me."

* * *

**ANs: **

I hope you enjoyed the romance and the laughs! In case you were worried, Valium doesn't work like booze, Nick will remember everything in the morning. Sara will wish she didn't when she sees Terri Miller the next day LOL

For N/G fans, how do you think the development has been thus far? Were Greg's feelings believable? I like to write him as a 'wears his heart on his sleeve' kind of guy and when I can, I like to bring back and incorporate the goofy/silly/hyper Greg of the earlier seasons when he wasn't so bogged down by his new job (remember how he used to play dress up and piss off Griss? LOL). In this chapter, Nick of course was only able to relax as far as he did because of the Valium, and he'll act differently when unmedicated (but not changing his mind). Are you seeing some believable progress for him in the last 3 chapters? Thanks for your feedback!

**Warning:** All chapters from this point forward have slash elements (subtext is a thing of the past). That doesn't mean that every chapter is about getting physical, it just means that Nick and Greg will be depicted as romantically involved. If it's fair game for Grissom and Sara, it's fair game for Nick and Greg going forward, because I believe all people are created equal, love is universal, and the boys deserve as much as a love story as hetero characters do. Lots of awkward/funny/sexy/serious romantic moments ahead for both couples! I'm making this clear, because I don't want anyone to be surprised. The line breaks are there, and you can easily skip certain sections too. However, if you feel the story is no longer your cup of tea, I thank you and appreciate you for reading the last 21 chapters and completely understand and respect your need to stop reading. But please, respect me and the readers enjoying the story and don't leave comments saying how gross same-sex romance is to you. I think that's a fair request.

**Thanks, **

**Maggs **


	22. Chapter 22: The Things We Do for Love

**Where You Are**

**Written By: Ms. Maggs / Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 22: The Things We Do for Love**

"I can't believe last night really happened." Tightly spooning Sara's warm, naked body, Gil replayed the memory over and over again in his mind…

"_Melvin's ready, Griss," Greg assured his jittery boss whose reputation had been damaged by last place finishes three conferences in a row. "This is his race, I know it. He's not going to let us down. I can see it in his beady little eyes." _

"_I sincerely hope you're right, Sanders." Grissom had no faith in the roach that had consistently placed in the bottom three at every time trial back at home. _

_Still buzzed from her sugar and rum binge, Sara watched the two bug nuts obsess over the race and used her camera phone to capture the geekfest so she could share the insanity back at the lab. "This is definitely one of those things that you have to see to believe. I can't believe you let him turn you into a bug freak, Greg." _

"_Do you hear the crowd, Sara?" Greg watched hundreds of college students and fellow Forensics colleagues cheering, holding up their cocktails. "This is the closest I've ever been to sports glory. I'm psyched Griss let me co-roach coach even though I'm not an Entomologist." _

"_Yes, you really are lucky," Grissom slapped his employees back. "I never let Catherine, Warrick or Nick do this with me." He inspected Melvin's lane on the track one last time to ensure it was free of debris. "This is it." He wished he could hold Sara's hand. _

"_Ready to lose, Grissom?!" Ben Casteel had an unlit cigar hanging from his mouth, so he could dash outside and fire it up in celebration of his fourth consecutive win. _

"_Care to put some money on the line?" Grissom asked with a hefty dose of feigned cockiness. _

"_A c-note says your Madagascar is mincemeat." _

"_You're on." Grissom narrowed his gaze. "Melvin will wipe the floor with Zeus's ass." _

"_Please step back behind the yellow line!" Monica Shemway announced into the microphone. "We are ready to race. Good luck, Roach Coaches!" She blew her starter's horn and yanked down on the lever that opened the race gates. "And they're off!" _

"_Go, Melvin!" Greg shouted and clapped. "Too bad Nick's sleeping through all the excitement." _

"_Go! Go!" It took only seconds for Grissom to turn red in the face from his overzealous cheering. "Melvin's in the lead! GO!" _

"_Okay, fine, when in Rome." Sara shook her head and joined in the cheering, "Go, Melvin! Win! I don't want to listen to your coaches whine if you don't!" _

"_He's gonna do it, Griss!" Greg anxiously watched the roach he had nurtured and trained scurry for the finish. "Yes! Yes! I told you so, didn't I? That's two things going my way in the same day! Holy shit! I should play the lottery!" _

"_HA! Take that, Casteel!" Grissom blasted his smug Entomology colleague who was cursing like a sailor. "Your streak is over!" He held out his hand. "And you owe me a hundred bucks." _

_Slapping the bill in his nemesis's palm, Casteel snapped, "Cleveland in August."_

"_I'll be there." _

Peering over Sara's bare shoulder, Gil admired the big blue ribbon hanging on Melvin's tank. "I owe you, pal." Recalling last night's victory celebration, his lips eased into a satisfied smile. "I owe big."

"_Way to go, Coach Grissom!" Sara gently coaxed her still injured man onto the bed. "You won the race and now you're going to get the girl." After drinking celebratory champagne in her on top of her rum spree, she had no problem putting on a show. _

"_Where did you learn to strip, Sara Sexy Sidle?" _

_Unable to keep a straight face, she burst out laughing, "Nick gave me lessons when we got here. He's had hundreds of girls strip for him, so I trusted his tips. Why? Isn't it working?" _

_"Oh it's working, I assure you." Gil reached down to tug off his belt. "But I know you CSI types need to see evidence, so…here you go." _

_"Is that a giant Madagascar Hissing Cockroach in your boxers, or are you happy to see me?" _

_"There's only one way to tell…get real close and see if it hisses when you touch it." _

_"Ha!" Sara did as directed. "Mmm…be honest, what has you more turned on, me and my body, or your roach win?" _

_"It's a tie." _

_"You're a real freak, you know that?" Sara smothered his lips with a celebratory kiss. "And you're all mine, every freaky inch of you." _

_Gil laughed with his mate who was deftly helping him shed his clothes. "Shh, let's not forget who our neighbors are."_

* * *

_I can't believe last night really happened, _was the first thought that entered Nick's mind when he woke at six in the morning and found himself on top of the comforter next to Greg who was burrowed under the hotel bedding snoozing soundly. With a quick lift of the beige velour blanket that had been tossed over him during the night, he verified that he was fully dressed except for his shoes, which he assumed Greg had yanked off at some point. "Good," he breathed out. 

Curiosity getting the best of him, he stealthily peeked to see if Greg was naked and was relieved to see that his bedmate was wearing a grey t-shirt and blue striped pajama bottoms. _But did we kiss?_ He remembered being close, shockingly close. A part of him wished the whole night was a blur, but unfortunately, Valium, unlike excessive alcohol, didn't cause blackouts and brain fog. He remembered it all…

The big confession…

_I want you. I want you on Catalina Island, in Vegas, all the time, generally, romantically, in every sense of the word._

The romantic silliness that felt ridiculous now without Valium in his veins…

_Are you like askin' me to go steady, G?_

The overwhelming urge for contact…

_Do you still want that hug?_

The insecurity that had swamped him when he remembered that it wasn't Greg's first experience too…

_You ever feel as good in another man's arms?_

How relieved he was upon hearing Greg's confident reply…

_Being with you is light years away from every other guy combined._

The possessiveness that came out of nowhere…

_I won't be amused if I catch you flirtin' with another guy._

With his eyes closed, he drifted deeper into the memory. Soon he could feel Greg's warm, eager body rubbing against his and the delightful sensation of fingers laced in his hair. He could smell Greg's cinnamon scented breath and feel its warmth on his parted lips. "Mmm." But try as he might, he couldn't remember their mouths connecting or the sensation of their first sinful kiss, the one that would change his status from 'closeted guy successfully denying all urges' to 'active homosexual with a reserved spot in the eternal hellfire'. _Did I pass out after it happened? Or did I pass out during? Or was it right before and I'm still not technically actively gay yet? _Opening his eyes, he tossed off the blanket covering his body and when he saw the erotic trip down memory lane had produced a bulge in his Levis he laughed at himself. _Oh you're actively gay, pal, there's your evidence right there._ A teeny, tiny part of him wanted to pounce on Greg and make it official the old fashioned way, so all doubts would be removed once and for all and the obsessing could end. A smooch could be a silly misunderstanding, but a hot and heavy lovemaking session would be impossible to explain away as accidental. After all, you could honestly trip over your own two feet and kiss a guy when you bumped into him, but sex…not so much. He chuckled while slipping out of bed to handle his urge in the shower instead.

When his feet hit the floor, he saw a piece of paper had been slipped under the door. The curious CSI padded over and picked it up for further inspection.

**Loverboy G - **

**Was last night exhilarating for you too?**

**Come see me in the morning.  
****I'll get you nice and relaxed  
****before your big presentation.**

**Use the key and slip into bed.  
****I'll be the guy with the  
****Massive hard-on for you.**

**Your Dream Man, Jeff**

Nick ripped the covers off his slumbering bedmate. "I can't believe you, Sanders!" He had just risked everything to pursue a relationship that went against all he had been taught and words like foolish, stupid, and ridiculous didn't begin to describe how he felt. "It hasn't even been twenty four hours!"

"Wh…what's going on?" Dazed and confused, Greg scrambled to sit up in bed, and when he saw Nick looked ready to kill, he panicked, "What's wrong?!"

"I'll tell you what's wrong!" Nick snarled, "For a supposedly monogamous, committed guy, you sure as hell didn't waste any time screwing around behind my back."

"What are you talking about?!" It was like waking up in the Twilight Zone.

"I'm talking about this, you son of a bitch!" Nick shoved the paper in Greg's face. "I found that under the door just now with a room key. I can't believe you!! I can't believe anything of this!" He backed away from the bed, on the verge of explosion. "I must have lost my god damn mind!"

"No! No! This isn't what it says!" Greg yelled in fear and frustration as he waved the note and jumped out of bed. "It's…"

"Don't come near me!" Nick raged, feeling humiliated and disgusted with himself. "Stay away!" He grabbed his duffle bag. "Just let me get my shit and escape this queer nightmare from hell!" When Greg rushed forward trying to grab his arm, he threw a glass at the wall, hoping it would startle him and send a clear message. "Stay away or I swear I'll break you next!"

"Give me two minutes to explain. Please!" Greg pleaded, Jeff once again about to ruin his life. "I know you're completely off balance from coming out, and it's left you totally vulnerable and insecure, that's why you're not thinking rationally, but deep down you have to know I'm not this kind of guy! If this note was true, I wouldn't blame you for wanting to kill me, I'd hand you the gun! You're risking your family's love and support to be with me and if the thanks you got for all that was me screwing around on you, then yes, I'd be the biggest ass on the planet, but it's not true, and I'm not that kind of guy. I bared my soul to you last night. I told you what you mean to me and I wasn't lying." When Nick turned his back, he urged, "Please take a deep breath and think like a CSI. You know you can't rely on **one piece** of evidence to tell you the whole story, not even when it looks highly incriminating. Let me give you the rest of story."

After fighting off the urge for to be with Greg for years, Nick was stunned to find himself suddenly terrified of losing the very thing he had been trying desperately not to have. "Two minutes!" he barked with his back turned and his eyes watering. Certain he was losing his mind, he fell silent and waited for everything to be right again.

"Thank you." Tears welling in his eyes, Greg said, "He's a DNA guy from Seattle and my ex-roommate from grad school. I've told him to go to hell multiple times, but he's not taking no for an answer. You can knock on Grissom's door and ask him if you don't believe me, he saw him giving me a hard time and I told him the whole story. You can ask my mother. I called her yesterday to tell her how upset I was that Jeff was here ruining my first conference."

"Why is he talkin' about last night?" Nick interrupted, masking the emotion in his voice.

"He's talking about the roach race. Melvin won." His voice shaking, Greg said, "If you had any idea how much I hate this guy…what he did to me...he beat me within an inch of my life because I was young and stupid one day ten years ago and told him I loved him when he wasn't ready to hear it, but now he's here expecting to laugh that off and fall into bed and he calls it me playing hard to get when I tell him I wouldn't touch him if he was the last man on Earth. Last night I had to walk back here with Sara and Grissom, because he's a strong guy and I was scared to death he'd jump me on the dark path and rape me. If I don't give him what he wants, I just feel like he's going to try and take it, I've been terrified." Tears falling from his eyes, he clutched his head. "I can't believe he's ruining what I thought would be a great day. Actually I can, because two steps forward, ten steps back is the story of my pathetic life."

When Nick turned, he found Greg crying into his hands. "I'm sorry." His own tears releasing at the sight, he dropped his duffle bag. "I'm so sorry."

* * *

"Do you think they're alright?" Sara whispered to her equally concerned significant other. She and Gil had been snuggling in bed when the yelling started next door. "They sounded just like my parents." 

"It was probably all a big misunderstanding." Holding Sara's trembling body, Gil tried to soothe her, "The last thing I heard was Greg yelling for two minutes to explain. Nick's a hot head and Greg's a talker. I'm sure they worked it out. It's been quiet for about five minutes now."

"Look at me," Sara vacantly said when she caught her reflection in the mirrored closet. "I'm seven years old and hiding in my room again. The only difference is I'm holding you instead of a stuffed animal. I'm hiding in my room waiting for evidence that he didn't kill her this time."

"You're shaking." His heart broke for the little girl in his arms and the woman who still suffered from the trauma two uncaring parents inflicted on her while only thinking of themselves. "I love you, Sara." The words wouldn't take away the pain, but maybe they would help.

"Why?" she asked, feeling incredibly unworthy of the sentiment so much of the time.

"Because you're Sara." He brushed her hair from her eyes. "I suppose I could tell you a list of things that you do that makes me feel compatible with you or attracted to you, but I'm a romantic. I like to think that true love is above a mundane explanation. That it's an innate feeling two people have for each other. It's deep and ethereal and can't be adequately summed up with words, it has to be experienced and felt. Like how you can describe a sunset at The Grand Canyon in detail, but it's really not the same as being there and watching the light play over the ridges while a hawk swoops by. Loving you is like being at The Grand Canyon at sunset…magical."

"That was beautiful." Sara watched her man holding her in the mirror. "And just yesterday, Terri Miller called you an emotional retard."

His mouth edged into a smile. "Well, the emotionally challenged are often misunderstood."

* * *

"I'm so sorry," Nick reiterated ten minutes later after Greg finished telling him the painful details of his relationship with Jeff. "I must be losin' my mind. I can't believe I thought you…" 

"It's okay, it's behind us." Greg smiled to assure him that all was well again. "You had the rug pulled out from under you when your legs were already wobbly. Seriously, you just came to a conclusion about something life changing that you've been analyzing for decades. That's a huge deal, and you put all your trust in me. Your reaction to finding that letter was intense, but completely understandable under the circumstances."

"I threw a glass at the wall." Nick pointed to the remnants on the floor. "I was shakin' and yellin', and I threatened you, all over a guy's note. Jeeeeez, what the hell is wrong with me?"

"I have a theory." Greg's smile expanded. "I think you realized that you're crazy about me and it rocked you to the core."

"Oh you do, do you?" Nick averted his eyes while laughing. "I'm certainly crazy, that's for sure."

_That's a yes! _"Soooo…we had our first argument before we had our first kiss, and we already know that we can work through a crisis. That's kinda comforting, doncha think?"

"Yeah." Stepping closer, Nick lowered his voice to a paranoid whisper, "So we didn't um…you know…last night?"

"Kiss?" Greg shook his head.

Relaxing from the sight of his buddy's familiar, lovable smile, Nick chuckled, "When I woke up this mornin' I remembered all this goofy stuff I said last night thanks to the Valium, and I recalled bein' in your arms, but I couldn't remember a…"

"You can say it, I know you can."

"Kiss," Nick cracked up.

"Yeah, you passed out while puckering up, so I tucked you in bed for the night. I figured we'd pick up where we left off in the morning, but…boy was I wrong."

Still feeling guilty, Nick moved beyond his comfort zone and took Greg's hand. "Let's start the day over."

"Let's." Gazing into the emotionally-charged eyes of his partner of less than twenty-four hours, Greg sweetly said, "Good morning, Cletus."

"Mornin', G." Suddenly in a panic over what might occur next, Nick blurted, "I have nasty morning breath."

"And there's perk number one of dating a guy. All that preening and sanitizing that we do for chicks isn't as critical. We're men, a little odor doesn't bother us." Greg happily informed his mate, "Perk number two…I'm not a one hundred pound waif. If you want to put a little muscle behind a kiss, or some other action, feel free, I won't break. Not that I don't like things gentle, I do, I enjoy a hefty dose of tenderness in my relationships actually, but should a more animalistic mood strike, we don't have to hold back worrying about offending each other's feminine sensibilities." Enjoying the flustered look on Nick's face, he continued, "Which leads me to perk number three…I have the same parts as you. That means I know how they work, what they enjoy, and I'm not afraid to closely interact with them. I don't think anything negative about the male anatomy or its output, which you'll never hear me refer to as gross, icky, sticky, and/or nasty. After all, it would be like hating part of myself, right?" He winked. "Those are just three of the perks, but I think it's enough to keep your mind busy for a while."

"Uh huh," Nick gulped. "More than enough…yeah." His desire on the rise, along with the crotch of his Levis, he found himself once again staring at Greg's parted lips. "I gotta pee."_ And take another Valium. _

"Perk four!" Greg yelled as his uptight love interest hustled for the bathroom. "You can leave the toilet seat up!"

* * *

"Did you forget I was here?" Sara needled her etiquette-challenged man when she returned to bed. "You didn't put the toilet seat back down." 

"Sorry." He tossed the USA Today he had found outside the door and pecked Sara's cheek. "You'll be happy to know that I brushed though. Maybe you'll reconsider and give me a good morning kiss now."

"Mmm." She snuggled up to him. "Ow!"

"What's wrong?"

Rubbing her beard-burned chin she pulled away. "Your stubble just seared off two layers of my flesh."

"Sorry." He felt it for himself. "Doesn't seem that bad to me."

"I'm a woman," she sighed, "I have thinner skin."

His romantic efforts thwarted again, Gil droned, "I'll go shave."

* * *

"Did you forget I was here?" Greg teased from the other side of the bathroom door. 

"I'm takin' a dump, Sweetheart," Nick joked. "I'll be with you shortly."

"Sucks only having one bathroom in the morning."

"You could come in and pee in the shower, that's what me and my brother always did growin' up."

"And kill the romantic vibe we have goin' on? Fat chance!" Greg turned when he heard a knock on the door. "Doh! I forgot to tell you that Jan and Dave are coming to see my presentation this morning. I didn't think they'd be here this early though. Stay hidden if you don't feel like dealing."

"No, I'll be right out, I'm just washin' up."

"Cool!" Greg hurried to answer the door. But when he flung open the door, instead of his mother and father, he saw Jeff holding a Krispy Kreme bag.

"I hope classic glazed is still your favorite." The muscle bound jock lowered his Ray Bans. "Miss me?"

"Yes, please come in." Greg waved him into the room and shut the door.

"Someone's eager this morning. What do you want first?" Jeff winked. "Breakfast or me? Or would you rather eat the donut off me?"

"Hold that thought." Greg walked over and knocked on the bathroom door. "We have company. It's the guy I told you about, Mr. Doesn't Understand the Word No." Nick had asked for him to point out Jeff at the conference, so he was relieved for the opportunity to settle things beforehand.

The bathroom door flew open a second later.

"You were serious about being with someone?" Jeff stood staring at the menacing man marching towards him.

"All six times I said it, yes."

"Would you go grab us some ice, G?" Nick postured in front of the bastard who had beaten his buddy to a pulp ten years ago.

"I'd love to." Greg snatched the bucket and dashed out of the room.

Nick spoke through a sarcastic smile, "I've heard a lot about you. None of it good, most of it despicable. Greg told you he was with someone. He told you to leave him alone. You didn't listen to him, but maybe you'll listen to me. Leave. Greg. Alone. That means don't talk to him, don't slip him notes under the door, don't watch him, don't come within fifty feet of him at any time, am I clear?"

Laughing off the accusations, Jeff said, "Look, Greg can be such a girl. He gets hysterical. I don't know what he told you, but…" When the man grabbed his testicles and squeezed with a vice grip, Jeff frantically gasped for oxygen.

"I was stalked once, I didn't like it. I don't like people who invade other people's space." Nick tightened his grip. "I was abused once, I didn't like it. I don't like people who physically hurt others to make themselves feel good. You're a stalker and an abuser, which means I don't like you. Greg's mother spoke to your wife and she told her that you used to knock her around. Wife beaters make me sick. This is for her too." Nick squeezed harder still. "You may intimidate Greg, but you sure as shit don't intimidate me. I've had guns in my face. I've killed people in the line of duty. I've been kidnapped and brutally tortured and lived to tell the tale. I'm **beyond **intimidation and I have a gun and know how to use it. I know how to dispose of a body without gettin' caught too." He snarled, "Are you hearin' me yet?" When the gasping man vehemently nodded, he released his hold. "Good. I'm glad we have an understanding." Smiling, he patted Jeff's cheek. "Just one more thing." While still grinning, he punched him in the gut and when the pig doubled over clutching his stomach, he kicked him to the ground. "Unless you want more of the same, don't show up at Greg's presentation this morning."

"I…I won't."

"Wise choice." When Greg returned with the ice a minute later, Nick yelled, "Leave the door open, G. Our guest was just leavin'." He yanked Jeff to his feet and dragged him to the door. "Thanks for stopping by and sorry to hear about your tummy ache. He told me he's gonna have to miss your presentation, G."

"Shucks," Greg played along while falling a little deeper in love with the man who just defended his honor.

Nick handed the bastard the bucket. "Ice your balls and maybe they'll only swell to the size of melons. Now let me hear you tell Greg goodbye forever."

"Goodbye forever," Jeff whimpered as he waddled out of the room.

"Yes!" Greg exclaimed as he slammed the door. "The reign of terror is over!"

"Hell yeah, it is."

A dozen emotions washing over him, Greg stood speechless, gazing at Nick.

"Yeah, you won't hear from that asshole again. God, that was fun." After a wink, the cocky Texan delivered one of his favorite lines, "Who loves ya, Baby?"

"You do." Breaking his promise not to initiate physical contact, Greg cupped his savior's face. "Sorry," he breathed out, before crashing his lips into Nick's and savoring the sweetness he had been dying to sample for years.

Stunned by the unexpected advance, Nick broke the kiss and shoved his aggressor away. "What the hell, Sanders?!" Panting, he watched his buddy wipe his moist lips with the back of his hand. "I wasn't…" Lunging forward, he crushed his mouth against Greg's, kissing him with a ferocity that he'd never unleashed on a woman. It was really happening, he was kissing a man. "No," he growled when they finally came up for air. "This isn't…" But instead of finishing his protest, he smothered Greg's lips again, urging them open, and invading his eager partner's wet, hot mouth with a wild, grateful tongue. For a sin, it felt heavenly. That confused him, but eventually he stopped caring.

Pinned against the wall by Nick's muscular body while being devoured by his ravenous mouth, Greg loved the crazy swirl in his stomach. He loved being consumed. It was really happening, and it was surpassing every fantasy by a mile. "So good," he gasped when Nick's tongue momentarily retreated. One gulp of air and they were at it again. He knew there would be plenty of tender kisses later, but for now he let Nick attack his mouth with the savage intensity of a man who had stumbled upon water after wandering the desert parched for decades.

"Sorry," Nick breathed out when he finally relented. "I couldn't stop." Nothing had ever felt that real before, that visceral.

"Do you hear me complaining?" Greg sweetly replied as they panted in harmony. "When was the last time a kiss felt that fantastic?"

"Never," Nick admitted, his mind too overwhelmed to speak anything but the truth.

"Same here."

"My lips are killin' me."

"My tonsils are sore," Greg teased. "You kept bumping into them. And now do you understand why I was perfectly okay with sex not being our first activity?"

The two men were clutching each other's faces and laughing together when they heard a knock on the door.

"Honey, it's Mom!"

"Two minutes, okay!" Greg broke into a naughty smile before whispering, "This is so high school. I'm in my room with a boy and my mommy's gonna see my hard on and know I was fooling around."

"I had the opportunity to fool around in high school," Nick confessed, happy to have someone to finally tell. "Bobby McMartin, a guy on the freshman football team with me. I was too scared when he asked me. I didn't trust him. I thought he was trickin' me. It wasn't until a few years later, when I found out he was caught gettin' it on with a guy in the locker room that I knew for sure he had been serious. I remember bein' pissed that I didn't trust him, but then relieved, because he caught so much shit for bein' queer."

Caressing his partner's cheek, Greg lovingly said, "I'm thrilled that I got to be your first. I've never been anyone's first anything." Lust replaced by love, he tenderly brushed his kiss-swollen lips over Nick's. "Thank you for letting me."

"Thank you for breaking your promise to always let me make the first move."

"Sorry."

"Do you hear me complainin'?"

"You're in there foolin' around with Nicky, aren't you?!" Jan shouted through the door.

"She knows?" Nick panicked, once again uncomfortable.

"I called her last night," Greg informed his partner. "You said I could tell them." Stepping away, he said, "Okay, I need to summon my anti-boner thought."

"I use dead puppies, what do you use?"

"I use dead puppies too!" Greg replied, certain it was another sign that they were a perfect match.

"Good Lord, my arms are full of stuff, Gregory! You're a grown man, I'm not going to ground you for having a hard on, just open the damn door!"

"My family talks very casually about sex," Greg explained when he saw Nick's shocked reaction to his mother's words. "You'll get used to it."

"I don't think I will."

"That's what you said about kissing a boy, but we both know you're counting the minutes until you can do that again, Cletus." Greg winked before reaching for the knob, "Ready?"

* * *

"Ready!" Gil emerged from the bathroom freshly showered, shaved and brushed. "The toilet seat is down, the sink is whisker-free, there are no toothpaste globules anywhere on the counter, and I'm happy to report that the bathroom fan works like a charm." 

"Am I high maintenance?" Sara asked while lounging on the germ-free sheets she had brought from home.

"Not at all," Gil lied while slipping into bed. It was a lot to go through just to get some lovin', but she was worth it. "Good morning, Honey."

"Morning." She eagerly brought her lips to his. "We only have time for a quickie now."

Gil replied through a perky smile. "Darn."

* * *

"Get together for a picture, boys!" Jan directed. "I'm starting a new scrapbook titled, 'Greg - The Gay Years'." 

"I'm not even showered, Jan," Nick pointed out, thoroughly unnerved by being openly gay in front of her. "Greg's still in his jammies."

"I like real pictures, not posed ones." The anxious mother motioned for her son's boyfriend to get to it. "Chop chop, the breakfast I brought is getting cold."

While he wanted to run screaming from the room, Nick moved closer muttering, "The things we do for love."

"I heard that," Greg said, happy that he had.

"Good." Nick smiled as he draped his arm around his partner's shoulders. "Is this gay enough for you, Jan?" he was able to joke. "Or should I grab a bottle of Evian from the mini-bar?"

"Ooh! That would be perfect, yes!"

"She's serious," Greg laughed, "This is so 'Senior Prom Meeting the Parents', isn't it? In all its nightmarish glory."

"What's that banging?" Jan asked, lowering her camera.

Returning with a bottle of Evian, Nick chuckled, "That would be our boss gettin' it on with his dirty little mistress in the next room."

Jan walked over to the paper-thin wall and shouted, "Way to go, Mr. Grissom! Show these kids that sex over fifty is fabulous!"

* * *

Gil froze in mid-thrust. 

"You're stopping?" Sara whispered, "Why? They can't see us."

Glancing down, Gil sighed, "I know, but my boys got stage fright."

* * *

**ANs:**

For those of you anticipating the first kiss, was it satisfying? I'd love to know.

For those of you nervous about reading the boys get physical, did you make through the First Kiss without shielding your eyes? LOL I wrote a couple of 'near kisses' so you could get used to the idea and then hoped that the emotionally buildup of the chapter helped make the kiss believable and real even if you thought it would be difficult to imagine or hard to read.

One of my regular readers thought a note on my romance scene writing style would be helpful for new readers who may be concerned with the level of detail going forward, so here it is. For my stories, I run a T version on and an M version on my website. In romance scenes, I tend to focus on the emotions of the scene, giving just enough physical detail to give a picture, but not NC-17 level type details that truly leaves nothing left up to the imagination. For example, in the kiss scene, I described the initial set up of the kiss but didn't go on to talk about endless thrusting of tongues, what was licked, or the quantity of saliva exchanged LOL. Lots of slash stories read descriptive enough to be used as a 'how to manual' for the bedroom, not that there's anything wrong with that at all, I'm just saying that this won't be that kind of story in case you were worried.

**Thanks for reading! **

**Maggs **


	23. Chapter 23: Power Trips

**Where You Are  
****Written By: Ms. Maggs / Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 23: Power Trips**

"It's a gorgeous morning," Gil remarked before pecking Sara's cheek. "I like to take a brisk walk and get my blood flowing before lecturing. So, while you shower and get ready, I'm going walk the hotel path by the bay."

"You need a little break from me, huh?"

"I get Cabin Fever when sharing a small space with people, even loved ones," he reassured her. "Even on family vacations as a boy I needed to spend some time alone every day. It's not personal, it's just my personality."

"Have a good walk," she said with a smile before disappearing into the bathroom. Once again he was leaving her, but at least it would only been minutes, not weeks this time.

When he stepped outside, Gil filled his lungs with cool, salty air. He hadn't been completely honest with Sara. While he did enjoy a good dose of solitude daily, it was her that he really needed to get away from for a while. After living alone for most of his adult life, living with Sara was a huge adjustment, one that he was still getting used to back home in twenty-six hundred square feet of space. The four hundred square foot hotel room they were currently crammed into was starting to feel a little tight.

It wasn't that he didn't love her. After the vulnerability she exhibited this morning listening to the fight he loved her more than ever. No, it wasn't about love, it was about space, and as much as he adored her, he couldn't stand her in his space all the time. This was his conference, his hotel room, and she wasn't supposed to be here complaining about toilet seats and morning stubble. He had been looking forward to the time alone, time to read and quietly contemplate life, and while he loved Sara and her romantic surprise, he couldn't help but mourn the loss of solitude he had been looking forward to for just a few days in his life.

With two hundred yards between him and his significant other, Gil's breathing relaxed. "Much better."

* * *

"It's a gorgeous morning," Nick remarked to Jan after peering out the window. "Hey, while Greg's in the shower and gettin' ready, would you mind if I took a walk by the bay? Or do you want the company?" 

"You need a little break from me, huh?"

"No, no, not at all," Nick politely lied. "I had a really tough case yesterday, that's how I ended up out here, I'm on stress leave. Long walks are therapeutic for me."

Handing her son's boyfriend a water bottle, Jan smiled, "Hydrate while you walk, it helps rid the body of toxins and that will give you an overall sense of wellbeing."

Taking the bottle, Nick winked. "You're such a Californian, Jan."

"When you get back, I'll whip out my travel acupuncture kit for a treatment and then fetch you a sprout shake." Chuckling, the loving mother said, "Have a good walk, sweetie. I'll let Greg know where you went when he gets out of the shower."

"Thanks." Waving the water bottle, Nick made his escape.

It wasn't that he didn't like Jan, she was great, a wonderful person, and she loved her son unconditionally. Jan wasn't the problem, it was her being in the room when he wanted to be alone with Greg. After living his entire life without a boyfriend, now that he had one, he wanted to enjoy him. But now she was here._ She broke up our first kiss! Well, technically the first round was over, so it's more like she prevented a second round._ He could still taste Greg in his mouth. _I can't believe I kissed him. That was wrong, so wrong, and so good, so incredibly good. Hot is what it was. The hottest kiss ever._ Wearing a Cheshire grin he strolled the path feeling sixteen again, but this time, instead of forcing himself to live out his brother's teenage dreams of making it with loose, big-breasted girls, he was allowing himself to be the teenager he was born to be. _I wonder if he's in the shower thinking about me like I'm out here thinking about him?_ He was allowing himself to muse about things he used to punish himself for pondering. _Would we be showering together this morning if Jan hadn't shown up? _It sounded phenomenal in theory, but he knew he would have panicked if the opportunity had presented itself. _I said slow. Slow is good._ _It's what I need. _Loving a man felt innate and unnatural at the same time and he wasn't ready to up the intensity just yet. _But damn that kiss was hot!_

With two hundred yards between him and his significant other, Nick's breathing quickened. "This sucks."

* * *

His Catholic guilt kicking in, Gil stopped walking and turned to look at the hotel in the distance_. I'm an idiot. I have a beautiful, intelligent woman soaping herself in my shower and I'm out walking alone_. He knew there were many fifty year old men who would kill to be in his shoes; many single nerds attending the conference would too._ I should march back there and jump in the shower with her, that's what I should do. _

Even though he was certain that returning to the room and joining Sara was the romantically right thing was to do, he walked in the opposite direction shaking his head.

* * *

His Bible Belt sensibilities kicking in, Nick stopped walking and turned to look at the hotel in the distance_. I'm goin' to hell. My best friend is soaping himself in the shower and all I can think about while I'm walking is how I'd love to be there washin' his back._ He knew there were many gay men who would kill to be in his shoes; many who wouldn't consider their actions the least bit sinful_. I should march back there and tell Greg I'm sorry, but I can't live a homosexual life, that it's something that will cost me my family and I've changed my mind, yeah, that's what I should do. _

Even though he was certain that returning to the room and ending the relationship would be the Biblically right thing to do according to his parents, he walked in the opposite direction smiling.

* * *

When she stepped out of the shower, Sara noticed that her toiletries had taken over the small bathroom counter, and Gil's were now crunched in a corner. I'm smothering him. He didn't go on a walk, he ran screaming from the room to escape me and my stuff. 

Stepping out of the shower, she sighed. _I shouldn't have come._ She grabbed her robe from the hook where she had left it. _I'll leave after the presentation. _

* * *

When she stepped into the steamy bathroom, Jan yelled to her boy in the shower, "I have to tinkle, sweetie, so stay in there and keep the curtain closed." 

"Mom!" In the middle of taking care of some pressing business himself, Greg spoke in a heated whisper, "I really doubt my boyfriend's prim and proper Southern Debutante mama has ever taken a leak in the bathroom while he's in the shower. He's going to think we're more insane than we already are."

"Having only one bathroom stinks." As she dropped onto the toilet she waved her hand in front of her face, "What did you eat last night, honey?"

"Why did I have to be born to abnormal parents?" he lamented while staring at his unresolved problem.

"Yes, we're so awful, your father slaved to afford the best schools for you while I gave you a happy home life and here we are in Long Beach to watch your first presentation and welcome Nick with open arms instead of being more normal and spending the day at a country club bitching to our friends that our only son isn't a successful plastic surgeon and married to a woman." Gathering a wad of toilet paper, the hurt mother snapped, "Poor Greg!"

"I'm going to wear down my loofa trying to scrub off all that guilt you just flung at me. You really missed your calling as a Catholic." Greg laughed, "Stay, pee all you want! Scare off my boyfriend of less than twenty-four hours." _Read me porn while I finish whacking off! _

"Nicky's not even here," she informed her boy while flushing the toilet, hoping to scald him.

"AH!" Greg bolted back from the boiling water.

"Oops."

"You did that on purpose." Greg rolled his eyes. "And why isn't my boyfriend here? Did you drive my boyfriend to run screaming from the room?"

Grinning as she dried her hands, Jan asked, "How many times are you going to say boyfriend during this conversation, sweetie?"

"After not having one for so long I like the sound of it."

"I **may** have made him a tad uncomfortable," she said, deciding to torture her ungrateful son.

"What did you do? Spill it!"

"Well…you know your health is paramount to me, honey."

"Uh oh."

"Since being actively gay is all new to Nick, I wanted to make sure that he was well equipped to treat you right."

Greg's eyes bulged and he gripped the shower rail as his knees grew weak.

"I presented him with a jumbo box of condoms, the Idiot's Guide to Great Gay Sex, and a Pleasure Starter Kit that I bought online from the Gay Boy Mall. Have you been to that website? There are a lot of interesting toys nowadays." After a giggle, she said, "Thank goodness I remembered to mention that all lube isn't created equal. The poor repressed Texan didn't realize that while KY is nice for a woman, it's better to use something a little more durable when making love to a boy." Following a second, more riotous giggle, she said, "You could choose your bead color when ordering the kit and I told Nick I picked purple because it was your favorite and I figured you'd be on the receiving end."

"I can't believe you!" Greg grabbed a towel to wrap around his waist and threw back the curtain. "He's probably red-lining it back to Vegas. He was totally freaked and shaking from our first kiss. We're taking things slow, very slow. I can't believe you! The guy can barely handle the fact that he's gay and you gave him beads and god knows what else is in that kit. Oh my God! What's next? Gerbils for Christmas?!" The most upset he had ever been with her in his life, Greg screamed, "Did it ever occur to you that **I** may not want beads up my ass, Mom?! And **please **don't tell me how much you enjoy that activity, because I'm at my squick limit for the day thankyouverymuch!" Dropping onto the bed, he whimpered, "All I want is a normal sex life with a nice boy without my mother involved in the process, is that too much to ask? I'm serious, Mom, you went too far with the jokes this time. This is sensitive territory and you..."

"Aww, honey." In a sympathetic voice, she replied, "I know it's a sensitive territory, that's exactly why I wanted to make sure he had lube and knew what to do with it. Your bottom was always so delicate. As an infant, I had to change your diaper hourly and use extra-strength rash cream or you'd chafe. I told Nick that and gave him the name of cream that worked best should you get a little red, because certain creams only made matters worse for you." As her mortified son scrambled for his cell phone, presumably to call Nick, she yelled, "Gotcha!"

"What?!" Clutching his head with one hand, he panted, "You weren't serious?!"

"No, so you can stop having that heart attack now."

_Bitch!_ He crashed onto the bed gasping for air. "I think you missed your calling as an actress too."

"That was payback for calling me abnormal."

"That's funny, because I think it's proof positive that you **are **abnormal." He placed his palm on his hammering heart. "I'm surprised that you didn't wait until I was yelling into the phone 'Don't worry, I don't want beads up my ass, Nick' before you said 'gotcha'."

"I almost did," she snickered, "but I'm not that evil." Wearing a satisfied smile, she trotted over to grab her purse. "I have to meet your father at the marina in twenty minutes, and I've tortured you enough for at least a few hours. I bought you a few new ties to choose from for your big day, I displayed them on the dresser for you." After a quick smooch to his cheek, she headed for the door. "I'll see you at the University, Sweetie."

"Not if I see you first!" _Bitch!_

* * *

When Nick saw his boss strolling down the path toward him, he waved, "Hey, Griss! I'm surprised you have energy to talk a walk after all that action I heard comin' from your room this mornin'." 

"You do realize that if you can hear what's going on in my room, I can hear what's going on in yours, right?"

"Oh." Nick whirled around to focus on the boats in the water.

"Sara was very worried," Gil quietly remarked. "After nine years together, you know I rarely get personal, but for her sake I'm going to ask…is everything okay between you and Greg?"

"Uh…how much did you hear exactly?" Nick asked, his stomach knotting.

"Everything you screamed in a jealous rage, what sounded like a glass breaking, and then Greg begging you to listen to him for two minutes."

"Oh. Is that all?" Nick lifted a hand to his face, covering his eyes and cringing. "Yeah, we're okay. Great actually. Greg's ex-roommate slid a note under the door that had me a little concerned. I broke the cardinal rule of the job, Griss, I jumped to conclusions without all the evidence."

"Well…all bets are off when your own heart is on the line." When he saw Nick squirming, Gil used humor to diffuse the awkwardness, "Don't worry, what happens outside of Vegas, stays outside of Vegas, and you know me, Nicky…I would never think less of someone for living the way they were programmed to live. I respect you personally and professionally and that's not going to change, no matter how bad your taste in men is." He continued the tease, "Warrick I would understand, but Greg?"

"I appreciate the levity, I do."

"Good, and I sincerely hope you won't be uncomfortable around me for too long."

"Thanks, Griss. I'll try, but I'm still uncomfortable around me, so…don't take it personal." Nick gulped the lump in his throat. "I'm not comin' out to my family. Other than Greg's parents and you and Sara, I don't want anyone to know. Not Warrick or Jim, and especially not Catherine."

"You have my word."

"I know I can take your word to the bank, so…" Nick breathed a little easier.

"And what about the incident at work yesterday?" Grissom switched to supervisory mode. "How worried should I be?"

"It's too soon tell. I've honestly just pushed the job out of my head while I get a handle on my personal life. I have a week until I start PEAP, but I don't know, Griss…I may not be able to go back, at least not in the field. I can't tell if it's the city or the people in it gettin' worse, or if I just can't handle the evilness all of a sudden, I don't know." Shaking his head, Nick shared, "Jim and I talked a bit. He thinks maybe I should switch into a lab job for a while, but I'm not sure that my ego could handle that."

"We could always say it's a physical issue," Grissom suggested. "Like a back injury for example," he spoke from personal experience. "If I don't clear you for fieldwork, you can't leave the lab."

"That could be an option, yeah." Nick took a seat on a nearby bench. "Greg wants to take me to Catalina Island for a few days on his family's boat. His dad brought it in this morning, he's prepping it as we speak. Greg thinks a little time away with lots of fresh air and no stress will help me clear my head. He's gonna ask you about skippin' out on the last two days of this conference." He quietly said, "It's really embarrassin' to say this, but…could you let him? I think it would really help to relax a bit before I have to report to my PEAP counselor, because if I show up the way I feel now, I'm pretty sure after a few minutes of pickin' my brain, Henry will say I need to quit LVPD for good."

Taking a seat, Gil nodded, "Tell Greg he doesn't have to ask, consider it done. He can leave as early as tomorrow if he'd like, because after presenting twice today, we're just guests."

Finally able to make eye contact, Nick smiled at his mentor, "I really appreciate the help."

"Good, now maybe under the same rules of absolute confidentiality, you can help me." Sitting back, Gil sighed, "I know it's not quite apples to oranges, because as I understand it, you and Greg were living together only as friends until…well, assuming from what I heard this morning, until last night, right?"

After clearing his throat, Nick replied, "Yeah, but we're um…in the very early stages of our relationship."

Gil winked. "Luckily, the sexual part of my relationship is the one area I'm not having any difficulty with, so I don't need you to speak from experience there. No, it's the other parts I'm struggling with, particularly the dynamics of cohabitation. You never lived with anyone before either, right? College roommates aside."

"Right."

"Since you and Greg moved in together on the same day as Sara and I, tell me…how are you feeling about sharing your home with someone twenty-four/seven? How does it feel having their stuff mingling with your stuff and not being able to come home and just be alone for a while?"

Watching a large sailboat drift by, Nick replied, "So good that I had to come here because I missed it." He shook his head. "I can not believe I'm sayin' this stuff out loud to you, but what the hell, right? You already heard my jealous boyfriend blowup, so it's not like I have any pride left." He chuckled, "Plus I took a Valium after Greg's mom arrived. Man, that woman is a piece of work."

"Tell me about it," Gil droned.

"Right, right," Nick chuckled, "she was cheerin' you on."

"Getting back to my question," Gil redirected.

"I apologize in advance if you get a cavity, but I'm a romantic who wears his heart on his sleeve. Life is one big country song to me, the more emotional the lyrics the better."

"I prefer instrumental music," Gil replied through a smile. "To continue your analogy, I guess I find life is often more beautiful without words."

"Then you could never live with Greg, let me tell you." Nick sighed, "But I'm glad I do. To answer your question, I love everything about havin' him there. I like sharin' my life with him. Havin' him around to bounce things off of when I need someone's ear. I love coming home with him after shift, or if we're workin' different nights, I love havin' him home when I get there, even if he's sleepin', it's just nice not to be alone. I like havin' him there when I wake up too, and not just because he makes great breakfasts, because it's nice to start the day with someone. It's good to have someone sendin' you off into the world and knowin' they'll be thinkin' about you while you're gone…and how much they'd miss you if God forbid you never came home." His voice cracking, he said, "There was no one waitin' at home for me that night I was kidnapped. It's not the same thing as people worried about me, I knew there were plenty of people who cared, but there was no one who was gonna have to come home to an empty house and miss me…no one sittin' in bed night after night starin' at my empty pillow with tears in their eyes." Smiling as he bit back his tears, he said, "Almost losin' my life when I hadn't really lived it, let's just say that I'm happy for everythin' I'm gettin' right now and the annoyin' stuff seems really inconsequential when lookin' at the big picture."

Gil remained silent, absorbing the powerful words.

Glancing over, Nick said, "Maybe that's the difference, Griss. You haven't spent quality time in a coffin, and you haven't come close to losin' Sara to know what you'd be missin' if she suddenly wasn't there. Maybe whiskers and hair in the sink still matters to people like you, because you've been lucky."

"You heard us arguing about that this morning, huh?"

"Yeah," Nick cracked a brilliant smile. "Here's the conclusion I came to yesterday. Life's short as it is, and there are psychos out there tryin' to make it even shorter. What the hell am I waitin' for?"

Grissom nodded, finally getting the point.

"We have people who care about us, Griss. We're the lucky ones, damn lucky."

"Are you ready to end this conversation and make the trip back to our rooms?"

Nick jumped off the bench. "Walk? Hell, I'm ready to run."

As they hurried down the path, Grissom said, "I'm going to order Greg to leave the conference after today."

"So we're not next door listenin' to you and Sara?"

"Yep." Gil hurried as fast as his bad back would allow. "Tell Greg we'll meet in the lobby in** exactly** fifteen minutes."

Nick pulled his trusted pack of bubblegum from his pocket and joked, "I'll put gum in my ears, so you don't have to hold back, Romeo."

* * *

After drying her hair, Sara began packing her toiletries. _I shouldn't have barged in on his conference._ _He loves these things. He's like a rock star when he attends them_. Sighing, she picked up her bottle of KY. _One of these days we'll have a successful getaway. _

With her toiletry bag in hand, she walked into the bedroom wearing the robe Gil had bought for her after she started spending the night at his place a couple of times a week. _Maybe we shouldn't have moved in together at all. Maybe it's too much for him. Maybe he needs his solitude, or is too set in his ways. _

She decided to wait and discuss it when he returned home rather than create tension for him at the conference. Tossing her toiletry bag in her open suitcase, she knew it was the right choice._ He_ _doesn't want me here, he's given me a bunch of signs. _Staring at the bottle with its safety seal still firmly intact, she shook her head.

"Sara!" Gil called out when he burst into the room. "Thank you for coming here and surprising me." He yanked her in his arms. "I'm a lucky, lucky guy." When he saw that she was holding a bottle of lubricant, he took it as a divine sign. "I have fifteen minutes and you have KY, which will compensate for a reduction in foreplay time. What do you say?"

After struggling to remove the industrial strength safety seal, she handed over the bottle with an encouraging smile. "Go for it, Romeo."

* * *

When Nick saw Greg sound asleep on the bed wearing only a towel, he rushed over. "G! What are you doin', man?!" He grabbed both hands, yanking his buddy to his feet. "You have to meet Griss in the lobby in fifteen minutes and you're not dressed, and you slept on wet hair, so it's all messed up in the back." 

"Oh!" When Greg's hands flew to his head, the towel slipped off his hips. "Oops. Remember, it's chilly in here." He crouched down to reclaim his towel while Nick laughed his ass off.

Nick hurried to the closet for the suit bag he had seen hanging in there. "You fix your hair, I'll grab your clothes."

"Thanks!" Greg rushed into the bathroom. "Perk five…you both know how to knot a tie properly!"

After spreading out the clothing on the bed in order, so his partner could easily throw on the pieces, Nick pulled a pair of boxers from Greg's suitcase and found some dark socks. "Which one of these Mama's boy ties do you wanna wear, G?"

"You pick."

Nick selected the one he liked best of three and moved to the mirror to tie it.

"Awesome." Greg tossed his towel and raced through the line of clothes.

When he turned around with the pre-knotted tie in hand, Nick checked the clock. "Seven minutes to spare."

As Nick slipped the tie over his head, Greg asked, "Ever play Seven Minutes in Heaven?"

"No."

"Wanna some time?"

"Maybe." Nick smirked while slowly sliding the knot into place. "How do you play?"

"It's a teenage party game. Two people are locked in a dark room together for seven minutes. It's a kissing game, but if you were lucky, you got treated to a little heavy petting."

"I think I might like to try that sometime. Maybe in Catalina." Nick pushed the knot of the tie into place.

"So, you're into bondage, huh?"

"Too tight?" Nick chuckled as his buddy pretended to gasp for air. "For the record, no, I'm not into bondage or any of that squick found at Lady Heather's Palace of Poor Taste."

"Me either." Greg sweetly laughed, "I know I've joked about a lot of stuff at work, but I wasn't speaking from personal experience."

Nick winked. "We all suspected as much."

"Yeah, I figured." As his OCD-prone boyfriend continued to obsessively adjust the tie, Greg said, "I bet this knotting a tie thing feels pretty good to a possessive guy like you."

"It does actually." Finally satisfied with his handiwork, Nick removed his hands. "Good thing I have a Valium in me, or I'd have the wood to prove it."

"Me too. I took a half per Griss's instructions, so I would appear relaxed while presenting."

Nick craftily phrased his newest concern, "Is my need for possessive tie knotting going to a problem for you?"

Sliding his hand into Nick's, Greg said, "When my almost fiancée broke up with me in college, she said she could never marry me because I wasn't man enough for her."

"That had to hurt." Nick winced, thinking of how it would feel to be on the receiving end of such a bash. "I didn't know you were close to getting engaged once."

"Yeah, and we were supposed to be waiting to have sex until our wedding night, but when I was home helping my mom after my grandparents died, Lacey fell into bed with another guy. When I confronted her, she said she couldn't help it, that he was so aggressive compared to me and made her feel so wanted, that she was blown away by how much she liked feeling that way. She said going out with me was like going out with a fun friend, but going out with him was like being out with a man who could protect her in a dark alley. I was pissed at her for a long time, but now I get it, especially after this morning with Jeff. Watching you handle him for me…I realized that you were the guy Lacey wanted." Grinning, Greg finally got to his point, "Some guys like knotting ties around a guy's neck, and some like to be the guy getting his tie knotted. Although she could have handled the situation better, Lacey was being honest and saving us from a marriage that wouldn't have worked out in the long run. You and I won't need Lady Heather's, because I don't think we'll have any power struggles in our relationship. I think we're a perfect match."

Wrapping his fingers just below the knot of Greg's tie, Nick playfully tugged him close. "Perfect, huh?"

"Yeah, cowboy," Greg spoke against Nick's parted lips while shivering from the feel of a strong hand slipping between his suit jacket and shirt. "Perfect."

* * *

Hurrying into the lobby straightening his tie, Gil asked, "What time is it?" 

"Relax, you're a minute early."

"Okay." Gil breathed deep, certain that he'd be delivering the best lecture of his life. "I'll certainly be relaxed, that's for sure."

"Speaking of relaxed," she pointed, "here come the boys. From the smiles they're wearing, I'd say there's no trouble in paradise."

"Ready for your debut, Mr. Sanders?" Gil greeted, rubbing his hands together. "How do you feel?"

"Heavenly!" Greg replied. The deliciously slow kisses shared in the hotel room were still sending waves of pleasure through his body. "Perfect."

Uncomfortable in front of their friends, Nick remained silent. 

"Where's your mother?" Sara asked with a smirk. "I heard you yelling at her earlier. Something about not wanting beads in a particular orifice. It all sounded very Oedipus Rex to me."

"Oh!" Walking through the lobby, Greg shook off the heebies. "That was just Jan trying to be funny. By the way, my parents want to take us all out for an expensive dinner to celebrate my first lecture. Are you guys game?"

"Free food?" Sara nodded. "Always."

"Definitely, she owes us," Grissom droned.

"Cool." As Greg passed the registration desk, he saw Jeff in the Check-Out line. "Hey." He nudged Nick. "Look who's leaving early."

"I told you he would."

When his ex-roommate looked directly at him, Greg said, "To quote a country song…thank God for unanswered prayers."

Nick beamed a smile at his buddy. "I knew it, you have been listenin' to my music."

Sara laughed, "He's a little bit country, and you're a bit rock and roll. That's cute."

"No it's not," Nick cringed.

"Get ready, Greg," Grissom warned while puffing out his chest.

"For what, Griss?"

"The glory."

As they stepped through the front doors of the hotel, a bunch of conference attendees broke into applause and chanted 'Melvin! Melvin!'

Grissom dropped his arm around Greg's shoulder. "It's not quite the Superbowl, but it'll do, right?"

Standing behind their guys, Sara and Nick shook their heads, both a little more in love than they were the day before.

Sara smiled at her SIB. "My boyfriend's a geek."

"Yeah," Nick breathed out. Feeling ridiculous and happy at the same time, he admitted, "Mine too."

* * *

**ANs: **

If you didn't get Greg's 'gerbils for Christmas' joke (KJT said it's not something she's heard in the UK), it's a reference to the Richard Gere/Gerbil Love urban legend. LOL Google if you want more info. KJT also said that in the UK the water gets cold when the toilet flushes, in the US in some places at least it gets hot, not cold. In case you were wondering. Another thing she tells me is different is driving other people's cars. In the UK I guess you insure the people driving a particular car, but in the US, the insurance is tied to the car and any licensed driver may drive it and be covered. THANKS to KJT for her insight, as well as her quick editing!

Thanks for the feedback!

**I hope everyone had a great weekend!  
****Maggs **


	24. Chapter 24: Perfect

**Where You Are  
****Written By: Ms. Maggs / Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 24: Perfect**

Strolling through the main dining room of Parker's Lighthouse, an elegant seafood restaurant on the bay in Long Beach, Sara said, "It was really nice of you to include us tonight, Mr. and Mrs. Sanders."

"It was our pleasure," Jan assured the skittish woman, "and there's no need to be formal, please call us Jan and Dave. After all, I'm only eight years older than your boyfriend."

"That's right, Sara," Nick poked his pseudo-sister and chuckled, "she's only eight years older than your old man. Hey, the food in this place smells fantastic, doesn't it? Dave and Jan, you guys are spoilin' me rotten again."

"Of course we are, dear," Jan took her son's boyfriend by the elbow. "We want you to be happy so you'll think twice about dumping our boy."

"Good job, Mom, keep it up." Grinning wildly, Greg caught Nick's eyes. "And just remember, when they croak, I inherit everything, even the house in Maui. Talk about a sweet retirement home."

"Oh, Gregory, you're such a hopeless romantic." Jan teased, "Don't you think you should at least sleep with Nicky before you start talking about growing old together? What if he's a disappointment in the sack? I took your father out for more than a few test drives before accepting a ring." She quickly sped ahead to speak with the hostess and avoid being reprimanded.

"Oh God, here we go with the sex talk." Nick cringed, "We are drinking heavily tonight, right?"

"Every night," Dave replied. "How else do you think I've managed to stay happily married all these years? At the end of the night, I want you to tell me something, Nick…which was worse, being buried alive and tortured by fire ants or dinner with my smartass wife?"

Greg waved his wallet. "Twenty bucks says it's mom."

Gil whispered in Sara's ear as they trailed behind, "I can't believe she's this tipsy after only two glasses of wine in the lounge."

"I think she's just really happy," Sara replied. "We're not around happy people most of the time. I think this is what they're like when they go out and don't talk about the latest triple homicide."

"Here's your table." Mimi, the hostess, motioned to a six-top on the patio with a perfect view of the bay and The Queen Mary. "Your waiter's name is Alan, and he'll be here to take your drink orders in a minute."

"Thank you, sweetheart," Dave slipped the pretty young blonde a twenty. "You did well. It's the perfect table."

"Daddy's a player," Greg joked in Nick's ear. "He still flirts with PYTs every chance he gets."

"Here you are, darling." Dave pulled out his wife's chair.

Gil quickly mirrored the gentlemanly move for Sara.

"Perk six," Greg rejoiced, "we're men, we pull out our own damn chairs."

* * *

When Warrick pulled out her chair, Catherine smiled at the gesture. "Such a gentleman." 

"My grandma taught me right," he replied while taking a seat across from her.

He had surprised her with reservations at Japonais, a Contemporary Japanese restaurant specializing in sushi and a variety of delectable entrees including NY strip steak cooked on a hot rock at your table. "And I'm impressed that you remembered me saying I loved this place."

Unbuttoning his jacket, Warrick broke into the smile he knew she loved, "Hopefully it won't be the only impressive part of the evening."

Catherine returned the grin, "It's going to take a lot more than dinner at one of my favorite restaurants for you to end up in bed with me, Mr. Brown."

"I wouldn't sleep with you tonight if you paid me, Ms. Willows." He winked, "I rushed into a relationship with Tina and we all know how well that worked out. No, I'm havin' dinner with a beautiful, intelligent woman and enjoying every minute of her company until I kiss her goodnight on her doorstep. Then, if all goes well, she'll agree to go out with me again, and again…" Taking her hand, he pressed a kissed to the back of it. "And again."

Waving her hand in front of her chest, she said, "Is it the heat coming off those cooking rocks making me hot, or is it you, Mr. Brown?"

"It's me," he confidently replied, "and the knowledge that you can't have me."

Lifting her wine glass, Catherine purred into its rim, "Like I'd let have you if you made a move."

"Oh yeah, yeah, that's it, right there. That's perfect." Enjoying the ambiance and the gorgeous woman sharing his table, Warrick relaxed in his chair. "We're back."

While letting her black lace wrap fall off her bare shoulders, she said, "And the flirting is better than ever, baby."

* * *

After watching Mr. and Mrs. Sanders feed each other appetizers, Sara felt compelled to ask, "How long have you two been married?" She couldn't believe how flirtatious they were. 

Grissom stopped in mid-sip, wondering why his significant other was interested in marital bliss all of a sudden.

"Thirty-seven glorious years," Jan answered while cupping her husband's chin. "And I think the best ones are still ahead of us, what about you, honey?"

"Absolutely, my dear." Dave snatched a quick kiss from his wife's waiting lips. "I'm semi-retired and getting a re-do in a lot of ways. My wife and I have been traveling and playing, we're finally able to enjoy the spoils that we've worked so hard for over the years, and with Jenni coming to live with us, I'm looking forward to us being actively involved parents again."

Greg choked on his wine. "I'm sorry, when exactly did Jan stop being actively involved in my life? Because just this morning she showed up in my bathroom trying to ruin…errr…run it."

"Stop pickin' on your mom, G," Nick scolded. "My mother's never come to a conference to see me present, hell, it took me bein' buried alive to get her to come to see me in Vegas. Your folks are takin' us out to a wonderful dinner and givin' us the keys to their boat for cryin' out loud. Stop bitchin', you're a spoiled only child and a lucky guy."

"Yeah, listen to your **boyfriend**, Greg," Jan snipped.

"Uh, Mrs. S," Nick pleaded in a whisper, "could ya not use that term when we're in public."

"I'm sorry, sweetie, I'll be more careful." Jan smiled at the uptight Texan. "Out of curiosity, how long have your parents been married, Nicky?"

After another gulp of the premium wine Dave had ordered for the table, Nick answered, "They'll be celebratin' their fiftieth this year as a matter of fact. My brother and sisters and I are throwin' them a big party at the ranch. We're also havin' portraits done to give them during the celebration, one of us kids together, then all the individual families, and one of the sixteen grandkids, all dressed in red, white and blue, they'll love it."

"Sixteen grandkids," Jan turned bright green. "What a lucky woman."

"Hey, now, you're getting a teenage girl this weekend, so don't whine." Dave slipped his arm around his grandchild-crazy wife and gave her a supportive pat. "It's nice to hear your parents' marriage stood the test of time, Nick. With you and Greg both from stable homes with happy couples as role models, I think you're more likely to value a committed relationship and be successful at maintaining one, don't you?"

"Yeah, definitely," Nick replied, while squirming from discussing his life with Greg out loud. "Could you pass the shrimp? Thanks." _Can't talk when my mouth's full!_

Sara's spirits sank lower still. _If parental happiness is the determining factor for my relationship success, then I'm doomed for sure. _Sighing into her third glass of wine, she decided she needed a break. "If you'll excuse me." She stood and grabbed her purse. "I need to use the restroom."

Gil knew exactly why his significant other was retreating.

"I'll go with you, dear." Jan jumped up with her purse in hand.

Sara stared down the bubbly woman. "Why?"

"We're women, sweetie, we always go to the Ladies Room in twos."

"Oh. Right." Sara stepped away from the table. "Thanks for the company."

Gil smiled behind his wine glass, loving his non-girly girlfriend's less than enthusiastic reply. "If you don't mind, I'll use this opportunity to check in with the office." He was craving a little alone time after not having a moment to himself since early that morning. "I'll be back in a few."

"More shrimp for us!" Nick snatched two more for his plate, happy for the Jan-free minutes.

Dave snatched one of the wine bottles. "Who needs a refill?"

"Me! Me!" Greg held out his glass. "My mommy is driving me to drink."

"I know she is, son," Dave topped off Greg's glass. "But humor her, okay? I haven't seen her this happy in years. She's so proud of the great job you did today, and she's thrilled that your personal life is out of the crapper." While filling Nick's glass, he said, "I'm sorry that she keeps making you uncomfortable too."

"I know she doesn't mean to," Nick graciously replied. "She's just happy for Greg and a little crazy, uh…no offense."

"Not at all, you were being generous," Dave laughed, "she's a lot crazy. Which reminds me, she stocked the boat with food and booze, but from the way she was giggling, I'm pretty sure she's left a few surprises that may or may not make you uncomfortable. Consider yourselves warned."

While Nick sat next to him gulping wine, Greg quietly feared that his mother really had shopped online at the Gay Boy Mall.

"I got you a little something too." Using the quiet opportunity, Dave pulled a white envelope from his jacket pocket. "Congratulations on your first presentation, son." He handed over the envelope. "I had tears in my eyes watching you lecture; ask Nick, he was sitting next to me."

"It's true," Nick concurred, "and for the record, I was blown away by how great you did today. You're a hell of a lot better at lecturin' than me. You're a natural."

Greg's entire face exploded into a smile. "That means a lot coming from the two most important guys in my life, thanks."

Placing a hand on his boy's shoulder, Dave spoke from the heart, "Finding out about your paper being published and then seeing you up there today captivating an audience of five hundred has been the ultimate pay-off for me as a father, it was the perfect moment. Thank you for working so hard to make something of yourself. I love you, Greg. I told you that every day when you were a child, but I rarely verbalize that anymore, but please know that I do and I always will. I've never been more proud of you."

"I love you too, Dad." Greg lunged for a hug.

Nick couldn't imagine ever hearing his father say he was proud of him after coming out. "I repeat what I said earlier, Greggo…you're a lucky guy."

"Wait 'til he opens the card," Dave remarked while dabbing his eyes with the corner of a cloth napkin. With great anticipation he watched his son tear open the envelope.

"Holy shit!" Greg exclaimed, forgetting he was in public. "Are you serious?!"

"What is it?" Nick asked when curiosity got the best of him.

Greg handed over the bank statement. "An account in my name with a hundred grand in it."

"It's what's left of your college fund," Dave explained. "Since you worked hard and received academic scholarships, I didn't have to spend all of it. I invested the remainder, and was saving it to give to you as a wedding gift, to pay for your honeymoon and to help with a down payment on a house." Dave raised his wine glass, "But then you told me you were gay and living in Nick's townhouse, so I said what the hell, I'm just going to give it to you as a coming out/you got your paper published/early birthday gift. I need to get rid of it for tax reasons anyway." He raised his wine glass and joked, "Squander some of it on fun, and then when you two are ready, use the rest to make my life better by spending it on surrogacy expenses or adoption fees to make Jan a grandma. Just kidding, you don't have to use your money for that, I'll be more than happy to pay for that out of my own pocket to pacify your mother."

Nick had unfortunately just taken a bite of food and began choking.

While slapping his boyfriend on the back to dislodge a shrimp, Greg chided his father, "The poor guy has been out of the closet for forty-eight hours, Dad. We've held hands and talked about maybe getting a dog someday, let's not..."

"Sorry, I couldn't resist," Dave snickered. "Damn, too bad your mother missed that one, she'd be proud of me."

"Thank God we're goin' on a relaxin' vacation tomorrow," Nick remarked while waving to the waiter to bring another bottle of wine.

"Speaking of relaxing, Jan made spa reservations on Catalina for you," Dave informed the boys. "The Ultimate Relaxation Package at 'A Touch of Heaven Day Spa'. All the information is on the kitchen table in the boat."

"Kitchen table?" Nick remarked in surprise. "Uh, exactly how big is the boat? In my head I've been picturing it like my brother's."

"What does your brother have?" Dave queried, always one to get a little competitive when it came to his toys.

"He has a nice eighteen foot Sea Ray Sport Boat." When he saw Greg and Dave look at each other and laugh, Nick said, "Let me in on the joke."

"Daddy has a Sea Ray too…a **forty foot** Sundancer Sport Yacht," Greg boasted on behalf of his toy-obsessed father. "It has a master suite with a wall mounted flat screen TV and a huge shower; a full galley with Corian countertops and oak cabinetry; a great conversation area with leather couches and a big plasma, and a tricked out cockpit complete with mini bar. Did I do her justice, Dad?"

"From the stunned look on Nick's face, I'd say it was more than enough." Dave laughed into his wine glass. "Son, I'm glad he agreed to be your 'you know what' before I gave you your cash and told him about the boat, or I'd be worried he was after your money."

"We're back," Jan cheerily greeted the men. "We had a lovely time bonding over a tinkle."

"Is that right?" Nick asked his SIS, who looked shell-shocked and ready to run screaming from the room.

"Where's Grissom?" Sara anxiously asked. She was hoping he was planning an escape.

"He's checking voicemail." Greg offered a wine bottle to his traumatized co-worker and laughed when she snatched it.

Handing her wine glass to her husband for filling, Jan sweetly said, "In the Ladies Room I asked Sara if she and Gil had any plans to tie the knot someday. She was very evasive. I wonder what that means, hmm?"

"Sara doesn't like discussing her personal life," Nick explained. "Lots of people prefer to keep their relationships private as a matter of fact, like me for example."

Jan nodded, "Tell me, Nicky…assuming you and Greg want to formalize things, do you think you would like a commitment ceremony with rings and the works? Unless of course those right-wing bastards pull their heads out of their asses and allow same-sex marriages nationwide, then you could have a wedding. I'd love to throw a nice…"

"Mom, would ya stop." Greg answered on behalf of his boyfriend, "We haven't technically even been out on a date yet, so you're getting way ahead of us."

"**Me**?" Jan needled her son, "**You** brought up retiring with him in Maui, but I can't ask about a commitment ceremony one day?"

"I was joking about Maui!" _Not really._

"Sweetie," Jan spoke to allay her boy's fears, "you and Nicky are already best friends, you share the same values and interests, and you can make each other laugh. You've both said you enjoy living together and have no problems dividing the domestic responsibilities and communicating, those are huge clues that your relationship will stand the test of time."

"They are?" Sara blurted.

"Yes, dear," Jan counseled, "that's why I'm a firm believer in shacking up before marriage. It's not until you live with someone that you truly know whether or not you're compatible. Will their habits annoy you? Will they share the responsibilities with you? Will they be a grump in the morning? Can you stand to be around them 24/7?" She rolled her eyes. "If I had a dime for every time I heard someone say they were sooooo sure they were in love, but then once they were cohabitating with their spouse they couldn't stand having them around all the time or their annoying habits."

Sara's thoughts shifted to Grissom's restlessness and their communication problems.

Jan tossed a smile in her son's direction. "So who cares about dates, Greg? If you can have fun living under the same roof, I assure you, you'll have a blast out on the town. Hell, that's the easiest part of any relationship. You'll find that out when you're on vacation in Catalina this week. Once you and Nicky can check off dating and getting it on, then you'll be 100 percent certain that you're perfect for each other and have what it takes for the long haul."

"More wine, Nick?" Dave poured without waiting for an answer.

"Forget the glass, Dave." Nick half-joked, "I'll just tilt my head back while you pour."

Sara wished she could get a Chardonnay IV drip.

"Sorry I took so long," Gil stated upon return. "Ecklie left me a half dozen messages. What did I miss?"

Sara smiled at her SO. "While you were gone, we determined that Nick and Greg will live happily ever after, but you and me…not so much."

"Who's hungry?" Alan the waiter asked in a sunny tone as he and another server arrived with trays of steaming food.

"Me!" Nick and Greg answered in perfect harmony right before Dave and Jan did the same.

_Not me_. Sara stared at the two happy, compatible, communicative couples sharing the table with her and her solitude-obsessed, communication-challenged man who had compulsively needed to escape her on a regular basis. _Suddenly I've lost my appetite._

* * *

"I couldn't eat another bite," Catherine exclaimed while shaking her head at her half-eaten entrée. "What about you?" 

Shaking his head, Warrick said, "Not now, but after a stroll through Paris, maybe we'll be up to splitting a dessert."

"Ooh la la." She reached for her purse. "If you'll excuse me, I need to powder my nose."

Remembering his manners, he stood when she did. "Hurry back."

"Count on it."

With a hungry grin plastered on his face he watched her sashay away. "Damn, I don't want this night to end."

* * *

"I thought that dinner from hell would never end!" Sara exclaimed upon shutting and locking their hotel room door. 

"Shhh." Gil pointed to the adjoining doors. "I wouldn't want Greg to hear you say that. His mother is meddlesome and annoying, but she's not malicious. She's one of those people who wants everyone to be as happily married as she is, so she plays matchmaker and tries to get couples to fall in love a little deeper. And she loves children, so she wants everyone to have them."

"That's what you saw?" Sara couldn't believe her ears. "All I saw was a woman trying to make me feel bad about myself. Someone berating me for my lack of interest in children, and who thinks our relationship is doomed."

Puzzled by the interpretation, Gil removed his jacket and contemplated an appropriate response.

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

"I…I'm honestly not sure what to say."

"You're not sure, or you're afraid I'll get upset if you say what you want to say?"

"Uh…" After a long period of painful silence, Gil finally said, "Maybe we should get a dog."

"What?!" Baffled by the statement, Sara stood gaping at her cryptic man. "Where did that come from? A dog?"

"A dog is a sign of commitment. It would be **our** dog. Our first **mutual** thing and much better than buying a set of dishes together, because you can divide a dish set, you can't divide a dog." Gil proudly supported his idea. "I think a non-dividable dog sends a clear message that I'm in this relationship to stay."

"Oh."

Buzzing from the large quantity of fine wine he imbibed, Gil dropped to one knee and took Sara's right hand. "Sara Sidle, would you acquire a non-dividable dog with me?"

Even though she knew there were many things they needed to discuss and work through, she let herself be swept off her feet by her usually non-communicative man. "Yes, Gil Grissom, I would love to acquire a non-dividable dog with you." The glow of her smile warmed the room.

After brushing a kiss over the back of her hand, he whispered, "I know we're a pathetically dysfunctional couple in comparison to the boys next door, but at the end of the day, please know that I think life with you is…perfect."

* * *

"I thought that dinner from hell would never end!" Once they were safely inside their hotel room, Nick locked the door and leaned against it. "Your mother's great, Greg, don't get me wrong, I know she just wants us to be happy, but I'm **really **glad we're done dealin' with her for a while." 

"Trust me, I feel the same way." Removing his suit jacket, Greg stumbled backwards.

"Steady there, lightweight. You drank a shitload of wine."

"So did you."

"I was trying to numb the pain of listening to your mother," Nick replied, the booze evident in his laughter. "Well, it was about that and knowing that we'd be coming back here together…gay…with a big old bed in the middle of the room." He broke into another round of laughter. "I didn't want to deal with that scenario sober."

Greg cracked up while undoing his belt. "Is that your way of saying you drank yourself limp?"

"I believe I might have, yes."

"We agreed to snail's pace slow, so you don't have to be skittish." Greg strolled into the bathroom whistling a happy tune. "Wanna brush with me?"

"Sure." Nick laughed the whole way to the bathroom. "This is all a little surreal, isn't it?"

"Uh huh, but I'm loving every minute of it." Greg fixed his toothbrush and then squeezed a glob of cinnamon-flavored Crest onto Nick's.

"Aww, thanks, Honey," Nick joked through a wild grin.

"Who takes care of you, Cletus?"

"You do, G." Nick brushed in between laughs.

"Perk seven," Greg said with a mouthful of toothpaste before blasting it into the sink. "We're boys, we like spitting." Using his hand as a cup he brought water to his mouth and rinsed.

Nick followed suit and then slapped his brush on the counter. "What now?"

Greg joked, "You gotta pee?"

"No, I'm good."

"Me too." Greg led the way out of the bathroom. "Wanna watch a movie?"

Kicking off his shoes, Nick said, "They have Superman Returns on Pay-Per-View."

"Perk eight, no chick flicks, although I'll admit I like good quality chick flicks."

"I like 'em as long as they have war or stuff blowin' up. Like Pearl Harbor or Titanic. Watchin' the ship break in two was great, but it pissed me off that the girl was so stupid. If she had stayed in the damn lifeboat, I'm sure that Jack coulda saved his own ass. Then they coulda reunited and run off together."

"I remember thinking the same exact thing," Greg said with a smile, certain it was another sign they were meant to be together. "I can't wait for Spiderman 3, what about you?" After stepping out of his dress shoes, he grabbed the remote and tossed it to his partner.

"Yeah, I loved the other two." Nick dropped onto the overstuffed burgundy couch and threw his feet up on the coffee table. "I think it comes out next week."

"It can be our first movie date." Greg's eyes sparkled with anticipation.

After a nervous clear of the throat the Texan warily asked, "Yeah, but…you're not expectin' to hold hands or anything, right?"

"No!" Greg laughed like he just heard the best joke of the year. "Of course not, Cletus. No PDAs ever."

"Okay, good, that's a relief." Nick's jitters returned with a vengeance. "This is couch is comfy. I think I'll sleep here tonight."

Greg stood gaping at the man who had kissed him like he was going off to war that morning. "Is it me you don't trust, or yourself?"

"It's not a trust thing, it's…" Nick dropped his head back on the couch. "Your mom kept bringin' up my family tonight and now I keep hearin' that Bible quote they love to toss around whenever they're goin' on about why homosexuality is wrong. 'If a man also lie with mankind, as he lieth with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination: they shall surely be put to death; their blood shall be upon them.'"

"Yeah, and like two paragraphs later, it says you'll be struck down for eating shellfish. Dude, you scarfed at least a dozen shrimp tonight. If you're already doomed from the fish, why not sleep next to me and save your back?"

"I…forget it."

When he saw Nick's tense reaction, Greg sobered, "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, I don't mean to sound disrespectful about how you were raised or what your family believes. I believe in God, and thou shalt not kill, but I can't support the idea that an all powerful entity is up there making arbitrary rules like 'eat shrimp and I'll kill you', 'dwarves can't approach the altar of God', and 'boys can't love boys'. It's just frustrating for me. We're good people, we really care about each other, and we're helping mankind every friggin' day. I refuse to believe we'll suddenly become evil, vile men if we share the same bed. I've seen more than my share of legitimate evil, vile men and we don't fit the profile, Nick, not by a mile. We're the guys who help lock up the evil, vile men."

"It's like a panic alarm goes off in my head," Nick confessed, feeling comfortable that he could tell his buddy anything at this point. "One minute I'm fine thinkin' about us livin' as a couple in every sense of the word, but then my family's mentioned, or I see someone lookin' at us funny in public, and then suddenly everything seems incredibly wrong again. When we left here this morning I was sure I was fine. This back and forth…I wish it would stop."

"This flip-flopping is hard for me too." Leaning against the dresser, Greg said, "On one hand I feel like I'm helping unburden you, because all the lying and suppressing you've been doing for decades has clearly taken its toll on you, but at the same time, it sounds like I'm trying to convince you to touch me and it's creeping me out. I feel one step away from Chester the Molester sometimes, and that's exactly how I'd feel if you weren't older than me."

"I never even thought of it that way…shit."

"It's okay." Seeing the struggle in Nick's eyes, he took a seat across from him on the coffee table. "It's stupid for me to feel that way. I know I'm not doing anything wrong, because I'm not tricking you or hiding the fact that I want you. I do, I want you in every sense of the word. I've wanted to kiss you a hundred times today since we left this room, have you felt the same way?"

Nick quietly asked. "The Bible really says the dwarf part?"

"Leviticus 21:20. Back when the Bible was penned I'm sure dwarfism seemed highly unnatural, maybe even evil, but now we know it's genetic. It's a natural occurrence, not the devil's work. We're not the devil's work either, Nick, we're the sum of our DNA. We're just as natural a couple as Grissom and Sara." A nervous laugh tumbled from Greg's lips. "After spending time with Grissom and Sara, I honestly think we're a much more natural couple than they are."

"No shit." Nick was grateful for the laugh.

"Okay, think of it this way, if we had both fallen off a ship when we were little kids and washed up on a deserted island, who would have been there to tell us it was wrong to have feelings for one another when we hit puberty?"

"No one."

"Exactly. We would have believed it was what it really is…natural, the way God intended it to be for us. That's how I look at it. You're letting a book of laws written by mortals carry more value than your divine genetic makeup."

"But we couldn't have kids on the island, and then we'd die. If it was natural, then we'd be able to procreate. That's my sister's big argument."

"If a man and woman were stranded, they could have kids, but their kids couldn't have kids together, they'd need other people. That's how you have to look at it, it's not up to one couple to populate the world. And what about a hetero couple who can't have kids or don't want kids? Are they useless? No. Everyone contributes. So we can't make a baby. We catch bad guys, sometimes we catch killers who kill kids, that's our contribution. Lots of gay guys adopt kids and foster kids, a lot of times they even take in kids no one else wants, that's their contribution. Maybe the hetero husband and wife who don't want kids of their own are doctors and they save kids lives everyday, that's their way of helping keep the world populated." Reaching out, he took Nick's hand between his. "You have to think outside the box. If you do, then you'll be able to see that you can still live a very productive, Godly life."

After a moment of silence, Nick vulnerably replied, "You really are smarter than me, aren't you?"

"And you really are stronger than me," Greg's smile returned. "Together though…we're a force to be reckoned with, doncha think?"

"Yeah, I do. C'mere." Nick pulled Greg onto the couch. "I wanna fulfill your number one fantasy."

"Yesssss!" Greg excitedly crashed into his boyfriend's arms. "Snuggling on the couch while we watch TV."

Nick proceeded to order the movie and then tossed the remote aside. "I hope the snuggling lives up to your expectations after you've been obsessing about it all this time."

Resting his head against Nick's shoulder while savoring the arm circling tightly around him, Greg contently sighed, "It already has."

His mouth against his loving partner's ear, Nick whispered, "Thank you for being so patient with me and helpin' me work through stuff. Not just the Bible stuff right now, I mean this morning too, when I was jumping to conclusions. That woulda been the end for lots of people."

"I think you're worth the effort." Greg covered Nick's arm with his and yawned. "Sorry, it's been an exhausting day."

"Yeah, and you drank a lot of wine at dinner, so I don't doubt that you're beat."

"I need to be rested for the trip tomorrow. I don't want to fall asleep at the wheel and crash us into a cruise ship."

"I can't wait to get away. No offense to our neighbors, but I think it'll be much easier for me to relax with you when they're not on the other side of the wall."

"It's gonna be great," Greg replied in groggy voice. "The only thing I'm worried about is you getting claustrophobic inside the boat, especially trying to sleep, because you'll be horizontal in cramped quarters. Do you think that will tweak you? There are windows and skylight so hopefully not, but still, I'm a little worried, because suffering from PTSD during vacation isn't fun."

His fears subsiding again, Nick whispered into his partner's ear, "If I get tweaked, I'll just get a little closer to you, and if I don't get tweaked…" he chuckled, "I'll pretend I do, so I can use it as an excuse to get closer to you."

"Sounds like a perfect plan to me."

"Look at you, you're gonna pass out before the movie even starts."

"Yeah," Greg dreamily sighed.

"Then you better give me a proper goodnight now."

When the exhausted man turned his head, he was thrilled to see a million-watt smile. "Goodnight, Cletus."

"It really was a good night." Nick lowered his mouth, whispering, "First of many."

Greg melted from the slow, sensual pace of the cinnamon-flavored kiss that was the complete opposite of the desperate lustful ones they had shared at the start of the day. "Mmm, I'll be having sweet dreams for sure now."

"Good." Nick returned to Greg's lips for one more taste of the love growing between them. "Night, G." Ten minutes later he realized he was watching the movie alone. "I want you too." Mindlessly stroking Greg's hair with one hand, while the other was draped over his chest, Nick relaxed into the cushions to enjoy the film. It looked odd having his buddy asleep in his arms, but only one word summed up his feelings as he was snuggled up with him on the couch after a long day…perfect.

**

* * *

****ANs: **

Who's ready to have some big time fun in Catalina?! The boat will be a place where the boys can get away and not worry that anyone is watching them. Lots of adventures on land too. I think between Sara's initial chat with Nick and this one with Greg, as well as the support he's getting from Jan & Dave, Nick will be feeling much more comfortable. The trip to Catalina will be life changing for him and of course, not without a good dose of humor!

**Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts the chapter!**

**Maggs **


	25. Chapter 25: Step in the Right Direction

_**PLEASE NOTE:**__The story's rating has changed to __**M **__as of Chapter 25. I'm very sorry, I originally planned on running a T version, but after re-reading this website's guidelines and speaking to other slash writers, I realized that the story warranted an M rating now that Greg and Nick are romantically involved. To write an alternative chapter would take more time and I don't have any to spare. This also means that new chapters will not appear on the 'Just In' list because this website excludes M-rated chapters from that list. Therefore, you will have to check the story to see if a chapter has been added. The easiest way of course is to put the story on alert and receive an automated email. Thanks for understanding : ) I hope you enjoy the chapter…_

**Where You Are**

**Written By: Ms. Maggs / Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 25: Step in the Right Direction **

"Mmm." Greg vigorously rubbed his face while stirring from slumber._ My neck hurts._ When his eyes fluttered open, he realized he wasn't in bed, but on the couch with his head in a lap. _This explains the crick in my neck._ Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Nick was peacefully snoozing. _Even as a drooling mouth breather he's undeniably sexy. _

Carefully Greg turned until he was on his back. _Keep sleeping, cowboy._ It was officially his first time waking up in Nick's arms and he wanted to savor it for a while. _We have a big day ahead of us._ It was Tuesday, the day they took the boat to Catalina. If all went well, they would be moored off the island's coast by early afternoon and starting their days of R&R bliss. On Saturday they would sadly have to leave their island paradise behind and take the boat to its dock in Santa Monica. Once there, they would pay the ultimate price for borrowing the Sea Ray…an obligatory dinner at the Sanders home with Jan snapping photos and asking dozens of overly intrusive questions. Closing his eyes, Greg was assaulted by a horrific vision of his mother riotously giggling as she excitedly asked, 'How was boy sex, Sweetie? I hope the Texan gave you a chance in the saddle.' Not that he thought they would get that far during the trip, or that he wanted them to. No sex without the L word was his rule now and he was sticking to it, but anything else would be just fine, mighty fine. _Uh oh._ He felt a familiar twinge shooting through his lower quadrant. _Gotta change the subject._

While forcing himself to change the subject, Greg glanced up and saw Nick's open mouth. _God, he's a __**great **__kisser_. _Duh, of course he is, he's had a ton of practice on women over the years. _His lips curved into a puckish smile. _But none of them rocked his mouth like I did yesterday. Oh man, the look on his face after those ten hardcore minutes of tonsil hockey…he was blown away. He had a neon sign flashing over his head blinking 'I want more!' _Greg rolled his eyes. _Then my mommy had to show up and kill the mood. Speaking of mood, oops. _As he glanced at his crotch, Nick shifted and by the time he was done, his palm was squarely over Greg's zipper. _Doh! _

Just as Greg was about to slip away, the alarm on his wristwatch sounded and Nick's eyes flew open. "I set my alarm for seven," he anxiously explained. "Um." _Maybe Nick won't notice his hand is cupping my crotch. _

When Nick saw his hand was cupping his buddy's crotch, he yanked it away.

"I swear I didn't put it there!" Greg nervously exclaimed, fearing it appeared that way. "You moved it there in your sleep and…um…I wasn't even enjoying it." But when he saw his buddy staring at the obvious bulge, he broke into nervous laughter. "What I mean is, I wasn't trying to take advantage, but I'm a guy and it's morning, and I'm pent up, so…" His laughter doubled. "I'm going to stop talking now and grab a shower, a cold one to be specific." He jumped to his feet.

"Hey."

"Yeah?" Still laughing at himself and the situation, Greg stood in front of Nick who was thankfully smiling.

"Just wanted to say a couple of things. First off, good morning."

"Yes, yes it is."

"G…" Nick grinned at the adorable guy fidgeting in front of him. "Breathe for me."

"Breathing." Greg planted his hands on his hips and sucked in a gulp of air. "Okay, what's up? Besides me that is."

"Do you know you even talk in your sleep?"

"Yeah, my mom told me."

"Uh…when exactly were ya sleepin' with your mom?"

"Ha! I've been doing it since I was kid."

"Sleepin' with your mommy?" Nick teased.

"No!" Greg shoved his buddy, sending him back against the couch pillows. "I've been talking in my sleep since I was a kid, ya perv."

As he laughed, Nick couldn't believe how unburdened he felt, it was like last night's heartfelt discussion and tender kiss had made him wake with a new appreciation for starting a life with Greg. "You're telling me **I'm** the perv?" he snarked, loving every minute of the banter. "I'm not the one bustin' out his pants after takin' advantage of a sleepin' man's innocent hand."

"Oh yeah? Well, **I'm** not the one who's checkin' out his buddy's **shockingly large** anatomy." Greg turned for the bathroom.

"Careful now…you don't want to be sued for false advertisin'."

Stopping in his tracks, Greg flirtatiously glanced over his shoulder, "Does the word slander mean anything to you?"

Nick deadpanned, "Yeah, but the statement has to false to be considered slander. Do I need to get a ruler?"

"Who are you and what have you done with my uptight Texan?!" Greg yelled. It felt like they had been openly together for years. "Not that I want him back. I much prefer this rowdy cowboy, but damn…what happened? Does Superman finally come out of the closet in Superman Returns and since your boyhood hero is gay now you're proud to be part of the team?"

"Yeah, those pretty blue tights he wears are a big clue, huh? No, after last night's talk and sleepin' with you, I woke up a new man." In a great mood, Nick felt like teasing his smartass buddy and walked to meet him at the foot of the bed. "I'm so comfortable I was even havin' a hot dream about ya, but your damn alarm went off before I could finish it." Deciding to continue the tease, he pushed Greg onto the bed. "Maybe I'll finish it now." Keeping a straight face, he swiftly undid his belt. "Don't worry, we won't be late, I'll make it quick."

"Uh…you have a wild look in your eyes, cowboy. It's primal actually," Greg remarked in a jittery voice as he moved towards the pillows. "This hot dream you were having…I sincerely hope we weren't trapped on Brokeback Mountain and you were spitting."

"Ha!" Nick cracked a huge grin. "You know, Sara ran through the whole movie on the drive over, so I finally get that spittin' joke you to like to tell." Loving the look on this buddy's face, Nick dove onto the bed beside him, and said in his best Texas drawl, "Relax, pardner, all I was tryin' to tell you before we started jokin' around was that you said some funny shit in your sleep."

Greg pretended to wipe sweat from his brow. "Good, because it's exhausting to drive the boat standing up the whole time."

"As if I'd do you like some inexperienced hickboy from Wyoming." Nick's ego blurted, "Trust me, I've had plenty of practice and not one of those women had a problem walkin' afterwards thanks to my expert preparation and execution skills, so you'll have nothing to fear when…" He covered his eyes. "Holy shit, I can't believe I just said that out loud."

"Me either! Or that you said 'when' not 'if'. Arrogant much?" Leaning in, Greg teasingly whispered in his suddenly anxious future lover's ear, "This will be new for you, so listen up, stud. I'm not like all the other girls…they may give it away, but I'm making you work for it. You'll need to woo me…I'll need to swoon."

Nick wished he had put gum in his ears. "Please stop talking."

"You brought it up. Look at you…you went from extreme cockiness to extreme vulnerability in ten seconds. Have you ever considered an acting career?"

"Can we talk about the weather now?" Nick whimpered as he removed his hand from his flushed face.

Greg rolled onto his side, propped up on an elbow and unfurled a smile. "Tell me what I said when I was talking in my sleep."

Relieved to be moving on, Nick answered, "You spoke in random thoughts. My favorite was 'Melllllvin…soooo goooood'. If I hadn't known it was the damn roach's name you were moanin', I woulda been jealous."

Greg rolled his eyes. "Could I **be** any more of a geek?"

Rolling onto his side, Nick propped up on an elbow, mirroring his buddy. "You could wear a pocket protector."

"Would you still want me if I started wearin' a pocket protector, Cletus?"

"I love when you call me that," Nick confessed, immediately stunned by the admission. "Right from the first time you cracked the joke. Do you remember that?"

"Only every word." Relishing the intimacy, Greg shared, "You did that kickass redneck routine complete with the obligatory turkey pot pie demand, and I said 'You're like scary good at that, Cletus'. I smiled all the way to my car, the whole way to work actually. I drove to the lab thinking how the hell can he not know I'm…"

Simmering from the warmth of Greg's irresistible smile, Nick sweetly prodded, "Finish your thought."

"How the hell can he not know I'm crazy about him?"

"He knows now." Their dark brown eyes locked, Nick quietly admitted, "And the feelin's mutual."

Feeling bold, Greg slipped closer, narrowing the gap between them to six inches and asking a leading question, "Are you up for a little adventure this morning, cowboy?"

"You um…you're talkin' about the trip to Catalina, right?" Nick gulped, half-wishing the answer would be no.

_No, I wanted you to touch me, but I'll pretend that's what I meant. _"Yeah, I can't wait to go." Greg flashed a disarming smile, snatched a kiss and then jumped out of bed. "Gotta get in the shower."

* * *

"Mmm." Gil snuggled closer to Sara's warm body. _This feels nice. _It was one of his favorite perks of cohabitation, cozying up a warm body in bed while not talking. Glancing over Sara's shoulder, he saw she was still soundly sleeping. _Even as a drooling mouth breather she's undeniably sexy. _

Spooning her tighter, he was grateful that she had accepted his proposal of an 'undividable dog', and believed it was a major step in the right direction. As far as he could tell, the idea seemed to make her happy, especially when he suggested they adopt a dog from a shelter. Although she didn't verbalize it, he knew bringing home a dog that had been unfortunate enough to lose its family and home, meant a lot to a girl who grew up in a foster home. _Finally, I hit one out of the park._ Thinking of her painful childhood, he snuggled her tight. _I've got you, Sara…in my arms and my heart._ _I know that's hard to believe sometimes, but it's true. _One day he'd make her believe him, but first he'd have to fight his way past all the baggage piled up on the path to her heart.

After a few minutes of intense nuzzling, Gil noticed a familiar twinge shooting through his lower quadrant. _Uh oh._ He knew the only cure was backing away from her invitingly warm body, but he couldn't pull himself away. _Just a little while longer._

Minutes later, when his crotch was throbbing and his breathing intensifying, Gil knew he had passed the point of no return; Little Griss was demanding attention. _Should I try to wake her? Or do I handle this in the shower? She did go to bed happy, so there's a good chance she'd wake up the same way and be game for a little pre-conference romp. What if I don't wake her and handle things in the shower, but then she wakes up and wants to make love? I won't be up for it and then I'll have to confess to getting off in the shower, or she'll think I can't get it up. _

Before Gil could make a decision, Sara was awake and glancing over her shoulder. "Oh, it's you. That's a relief," she droned, "I thought a sea snake had slithered into our room from the bay."

"Sorry," he replied like a busted schoolboy. "What can I say…you're body inspires me to new heights, and there really is something invigorating about sea air." He pecked her lips. "Morning, Honey." He anxiously waited to see if she was in the mood.

Still buzzing from his 'undividable dog' proposal, Sara winked, "Okay, Romeo, just give me a few mintues."

_Yessss!_ "Take your time." _But not too long._

After a teasing kiss that she knew would increase his suffering, Sara slipped out of bed. "Be right back."

Once the bathroom door was closed, Gil zipped out of bed and over to his suitcase where he had a spare deodorant and a pack of mints. After tossing an Altoid in his mouth, he checked his reflection in the mirrored closet and immediately regretted it, since a glimpse of his uncovered chest reminded him he only felt sixteen, but was really fifty. He quickly retreated to the safety of the covers and slipped off the navy blue pajama bottoms he had worn to bed, so they wouldn't have to waste any time.

"Sorry," Sara announced when she stepped out of the bathroom cinching her robe tighter. "I had my suspicions when I woke up, and sure enough, it's that time of the month, so…it's a no go."

Gil's heart sank, but unfortunately his desire did not. "I'm sorry too." Shortly after they had become sexually active last year, Sara politely informed him 'I know some women don't mind, but I don't make love when I have my period. I tried it once, but the aftermath looked like a crime scene and I wanted to hurl.' He stayed hopeful though, believe she would offer an alternative solution.

"Shouldn't you be getting in the shower anyway?" She pointed to the clock. "Conference starts at eight-thirty, right?"

"Yeah." When Gil tossed the covers he realized he had already shucked his pajama bottoms. _Great, now she'll get to gape at my fifty year old non-hard body __**and**__ my stiffy._

* * *

"G!" Nick called into the steamy bathroom. "Sorry, but…do you mind if I pee while you shower?" 

Just like the previous day, Greg was in the middle of pressing business when he was unexpectedly interrupted. "Of course not," he answered, hoping he didn't sound like he had been panting two seconds earlier. "Don't flush though, because I'll get scalded."

"I woulda waited, but you've been in here a long time."

"The massaging shower head in here is great. I'm addicted." Through the curtain, he could see the outline of Nick's body and it only made matters worse. "I um…don't have one of these fancy shower heads in my bathroom at home."

After tossing his shirt, Nick moved to the sink. "I have one in my bathroom, or will it be our bathroom now?" He sheepishly said, "I guess we have to talk about how we're gonna handle everything, huh? Assuming everything goes well this week…though I'm sure it will, because I'm havin' a great time with you and we haven't even left."

Staring at the unsolved problem between his hips, Greg was uncharacteristically not up for a conversation. "It'll take a couple of hours to get to Catalina, can we talk about all that on the way over?"

"Wow." Nick leaned against the sink. "You not wantin' to talk, there's a first."

Greg breathed through his issue while waiting for Nick to leave.

"I think I'll brush and shave while you're showerin' to save us some time." Nick stripped down to his boxer briefs and then reached for his toothbrush. "You better not use all the hot water, G, because I have to shower too, and we need to be on time to meet your dad at the pier. Seriously, if I don't get in there soon we'll end up late."

"Jeez! If you're that worried, you're welcome to join me, cowboy." Surprised by the words that had just tumbled out of his mouth, Greg froze. "Uh…" Facing the temperature knobs on the wall, he let the hot water roll down his back and waited for his buddy's response.

After staring at his reflection in the steamed bathroom mirror for nearly a minute, Nick moved his shaky hands from the counter's edge and tugged down his boxer briefs. The only sounds in the bathroom now were the teeming water and the deafening beat of his heart. Sixty seconds later, he finally took a step toward the shower.

When Greg heard the rattle of the curtain rings, his breath caught in his throat. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the curtain bunching up as it was gently pushed aside. Shaking from a combination of excitement, anticipation and fear, he reached forward and placed his right palm on the tile wall to steady himself.

Without uttering a word, Nick stepped into the tub and meticulously returned the curtain to its original position. He had entered the bathroom hoping for an invitation, but now that he was in the shower, the situation was daunting.

Greg remained frozen, except for his chest which was rapidly rising and falling. He could feel a pair of eyes burning into his soaked skin and anxiously waited to see what would happen next.

Completely unnerved by the situation, Nick stayed two feet away and kept his eyes locked on his buddy's shoulders, which were surprisingly wide for a non-athletic guy. Watching the hot water rush over Greg's flesh, he struggled to work up the courage needed to move forward in the shower and in his life.

Fearing that eye contact would be too overwhelming for the obviously nervous man behind him, Greg extended his left hand backwards, hoping Nick would clasp it. "Hey…"

"You….you were serious when you said I should join you, right?" Nick asked in a trembling voice. It felt odd to be an uneasy participant after years spent as the confident aggressor.

"God yes." When his hand was gripped, Greg released a grateful moan. "I was hoping you'd follow me in here." In his gut he knew the skittish Texan would bolt if they faced each other, exposing their mutual desire, so he kept his eyes and body facing forward.

Growing up a jock, Nick had spent a tortuous amount of time showering with crushes he couldn't touch; boys he wished he could freely date and kiss. Realizing the wait was finally over, tears of joy formed in his eyes. "I…I want to touch you." Releasing Greg's hand, he lifted both of his and gently placed them on the beautiful shoulders in front of him. A surge of excitement raced through his body as he fulfilled an urge first felt twenty-one years ago.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, Greg added his second palm to the tile wall to keep his balance. "That feels nice."

Fanning his palms across a man's back was more exhilarating than Nick had imagined. "Your scars." He traced the outline of the largest one with his fingertip. He had seen them from afar, but up close he could feel the pain once behind them.

"I got skin grafts after the lab explosion," Greg answered as his breathing labored. The touch felt so magical, he half expected the scars to be gone the next time he looked in the mirror. "They get a little better every year."

"You could have died that day," Nick whispered, eternally grateful that his buddy had survived to be here for him right now, in this perfect private moment. To show his gratitude, he lowered his mouth to the scar.

A tender kiss pressed to his imperfect flesh had triggered a moan of raw delight from Greg. "No one's ever done that before." It felt incredibly innocent yet intensely erotic.

As the urge to explore the dripping wet body before him grew out of control, Nick lurched away, frightened off by the guttural sounds his actions were inspiring from his partner.

When the pleasure abruptly ended, Greg whirled around. "You okay?" He found a dozen emotions simmering in his buddy's eyes and his body quaking.

"No. Yes. Yes and no…mostly no," Nick panted in reply as he stood in the steamy shower longing for his buddy to be so much more than a friend. "Just a kiss."

Greg complied, bringing their mouths together while keeping their bodies apart. "Like that?"

Nick answered with a nod and parted lips.

Hot water pelting their overheated flesh, tenderness escalated into wet, sloppy kisses as they pawed each other's hair and drove their bodies into a mutual frenzy.

Suddenly Nick's panic returned, "I don't want to..."

"There are lots of other things," Greg panted before their mouths locked again.

The devil on Nick's shoulder urged him to take hold of his willing partner, but the disgusted angel waving the King James Bible on the opposite shoulder kept him from following through on the desire. "I can't…." Thus far he had managed to keep the majority of his body at a safe distance. "And I don't want you to…"

"It's okay." Being the experienced one of the duo, Greg lovingly whispered in his vexed lover's ear, "We won't have to do anything; believe me, it'll just happen if you get a little closer." Remembering the exhilaration the first time he ever bumped up against another man, he was certain Nick would experience the same blinding loss of control. Weaving his fingers through his whimpering partner's hair he upped the intensity of their kisses while pressing their bodies together. "See what I mean?"

"Yes," it didn't seem like an adequate reply when his world was being rocked, but Nick rasped it just the same. It was like every locker room fantasy he had ever had, rolled up into one intense experience. Overwhelmed and overjoyed, he was quickly pushed to the edge. "G…" Fourteen glorious seconds after brushing his hips against another man's for the first time, with one hand gripping Greg's hair and the other clutching his arm hard enough to leave a mark, Nick experienced a level of ecstasy that no woman had ever been able to inspire.

* * *

"Sara…" Gil gasped as hot water from the powerful massaging shower head doused him from above. _Yessss._ The pleasure was blinding as Sara stood behind him wantonly assaulting his body with her deft hands. _Just like that._

The fantasy had been so real, he was surprised to find himself alone when his eyes reopened in the shower. A satisfied smirk edged over his lips. _That was hot. _After thirty-seven years of experience, to say he was adept at self-fulfillment was an understatement. _I think that was a personal best._ Grabbing the mini-bottle of shampoo, he sighed with contentment.

"Guess who?!" Sara cheerily greeted her man as she shed her robe, threw back the curtain and stepped into the shower, trying desperately to push all fear of athlete's foot and fungus out of her mind. "I was in bed when suddenly had this **crazy **idea."

Gil's eyes widened to saucers when his lover gripped his passion-weary body with her hands.

Sara deviously snickered in her man's ear, "Just because we can't make love, doesn't mean we can't have some fun together in the shower, right?"

"Right," Gil cringed when he glanced down and saw he was down for the count.

Reaching around, Sara made her big move, but found something very, very small.

"Honey…"

"Don't worry," she supportively whispered, "I'll take care of the problem."

"Actually, you can't." Staring at the temperature controls on the wall in front of him, he confessed, "Because I already did."

"Oh." Sara removed her hands. "You mean you…in the shower."

"Yeah."

Instinctively her gaze turned to her feet which were standing in the pooled water of the tub that drained slower than the shower filled it. _Eww. _

"I could wash your back," Gil waved the small bar of hotel soap.

"Yay." Sara pushed out a smile and turned around.

Running his soapy palm over her smooth, creamy skin, he thought maybe he'd spring to life, but alas his fifty year old parts continued to snooze. "Do you want me to help you out in any other way?" he queried in a sexy whisper.

"No, that's okay," she sighed, cursing herself for being late to the party.

* * *

"Sorry I'm late, Dad!" Greg raced up the small wood pier waving at his father who was checking his watch. "Forgot to set the alarm." 

"You had to be exhausted after your big day yesterday," Dave stated as he welcomed his son with open arms. "I'd rather have you rested and alert to drive the boat than on time and sleepy."

"Thanks again for everything last night…what you said, the dinner, the bank account." Greg stepped back from the hug. "And for letting Nick and me use Freyja for our getaway."

"I haven't taken her out in months, so I'm happy she's getting some play." Dave climbed into the boat. "I filed a Float Plan for you and plotted your course. We'll go over it and then do a safety check."

"Is Mom down below?"

"No." Dave winked at his son, "You'll be happy to know that I dropped her at the mall with free-reign on our Platinum Visa card and orders to shop for Jenni. I told her that she tortured poor Nick at dinner last night and I didn't want him to suffer again this morning."

"You rock!"

"I know." Grinning, Dave proceeded to the helm. "Where is Nick anyway?"

"We bought a ton of supplies at Wal-Mart and he's sorting through them in the parking lot." When he saw his father tense, Greg chuckled, "Not** those** kinds of supplies, Dad. This is a spontaneous trip, so we didn't pack things like warm coats and sweaters for nighttime. There's a bunch of stuff we needed."

"Sorry." Dave laughed with his boy while retrieving the trip plan folder he had stowed. "Okay, have a seat at the helm, Skipper."

Greg tossed his jacket on the companion bench and dropped into the helm seat, excited to be behind the wheel again.

"Hey, what happened to your arm?" Dave grasped Greg by the elbow to inspect the bruising. After a closer look it was obvious the marks were made by someone gripping him with force. "Did Nick do this to you?" After already seeing his son beaten to a pulp twice in his lifetime, his ire was immediate.

Not noticing the marks himself, Greg glanced down for a look.

"Son, if he's hurting you…" Dave pulled in a gulp of air. "I'm not letting you go away with a guy who's abusing you, Greg. I'm still pissed at myself for not busting open Jeff's head yesterday when I found out what he did to you ten years ago for Christ's sake!"

"Dad, no! Nick's not abusing me." Greg jumped out of the chair shaking his head. "Take a deep breath and listen to me, okay?"

Dave did as asked and dropped onto the cockpit's companion bench. "Don't cover up for him like you did with Jeff. Promise me, Greg."

"There's nothing to cover up, Dad. I swear. Nick's not abusing me in **any **way. Just yesterday he pummeled Jeff and threatened to kill him if he ever hassled me again. He's protecting me, Dad, not hurting me."

"He really did that?"

"Yes." Greg excitedly relayed, "It was the coolest thing ever and within an hour, Jeff was checking out of the hotel to return to Seattle a beaten man."

Dave's appreciation for Nick grew tenfold. "But that bruise looks very fresh."

Greg sweetly smiled at his lovingly hetero father. "Do you remember the morning after our first night in the Maui house? I was a senior in high school and you and I went down to the beach for a swim. You took your shirt off and I yelled 'what happened to your back, Dad, it's covered in scratches?' You told me Mom got a little carried away thanking you for the vacation house."

"I had forgotten about that." Dave burst out laughing. "Didn't I tell you something like 'Let this be a lesson son…study hard at Stanford, so you can succeed in life and one day buy your wife a vacation house in paradise. Then you too will know what it's like to have your back scratched to hell while your grateful wife screams your name."

Nodding at his grinning father, Greg said, "Things work differently between men. Since we don't have fingernails, there's never any scratching, but when we get caught up in the heat of moment, sometimes we forget our own strength, and bruises are just the accidental result of a really good time. We're not even having sex yet, but emotions were running high, and…"

"And now I'm so sorry I asked," Dave gulped down his nausea and pushed out the smile of a loving, supportive father. "It's not that I don't approve or think you're twisted or…I don't want to make you feel bad, son."

"How's this?" Greg laughed, "While you're fully supportive of gay rights and your gay son, at the end of the day you're a hetero man and the thought of two guys together makes you queasy, and the thought of your son being manhandled by a roughneck from Texas gets you totally squicked, so let's agree not to mention that aspect of the relationship ever again."

"I really wish I could be your mother and get all excited about the romance part too, but…" Dave shook his head. "To be honest, what you said sums it up perfectly, yes. Tell me all about Nick kicking a guy's ass to defend your honor, but not what he likes to do with yours. I sincerely hope that doesn't offend you."

"Nah." Greg shook his head. "I feel the same way whenever I see lesbians playing tonsil hockey. Blech."

"See, I don't have a problem with them," Dave laughed at the hypocrisy and then sobered again. "Before we never talk about your sex life again, Greg, just promise me you'll continue to practice safe sex. As I understand it, Nick's slept around quite a bit and women can carry diseases too. You're my only son and I've almost had to plan your funeral twice between the lab explosion and the beating, I never want to do it for real."

"I'm an Eagle Scout, Dad." Greg made the pledge sign. "And I'm sure mom has condoms and lube stashed all over the damn boat."

Dave breathed in the salt air. "Let's start that 'no sex talk' rule right now."

"Consider it done." Greg pulled on his jacket to cover the bruise, and then returned to the helm seat, ready to walk through the plotted course.

"I need a pen." Dave walked over and opened the small drawer to the right of the wheel. "So much for not thinking about sex." He pulled out one of the condoms and read the wrapper. "Hey, I didn't know they made glow-in the dark ones."

"You wanna keep it, stud?"

"Your mother will owe me after a day of shopping with my credit card." Snickering, he tucked it in his pocket. "Okay, here's the plan."

"Hey, Dave!" Nick called out as he walked past the boat holding a Venti Starbucks cup.

"I'll give you boys a second," the uncomfortable father whispered. "Hey, Nick!" It was hard to look him in the eye after all the sex talk. "I was just on my way to the head." He gasped, "That's what we call a bathroom on a boat. There are different terms for things, that's one of them."

Listening to his nervous father, Greg was in stitches.

"Yeah, I know. I've studied up." Nick pointed, "Forward, Aft, Port, Starboard, right?"

"Very good." Dave replied before hurrying below.

"Miss me already, Cletus?" Greg flirtatiously asked from the helm seat.

"Somethin' like that." He pulled the Starbucks coffee from behind his back. "I just wanted to surprise you."

"Cool! Coffee." Greg circled his fingers around the cup "I'd kiss you, but we're in a public no PDA zone."

"Then I'll expect a raincheck," Nick replied with a twinkle in his eye.

"So, everything's okay again?" After their intense shower experience, the anxious Texan had another crisis of conscience, which included a minor freak out and not making eye contact for nearly an hour.

"Yep, everything's great. I'll start bringin' the gear." After jumping off the boat's edge down to the dock, Nick asked, "Hey, why'd your dad name his boat Freyja?"

"My mom named it." Greg stood and leaned over the rail, "Freyja is the Norse goddess of sensual lovvvve."

"Really?"

"Yep." Greg winked. "I think it's gonna be a very interesting four days, what about you, cowboy?" When he saw Nick scurry off to avoid the question, he laughed, "That's a yes!"

"I'm coming back up!" Dave loudly announced.

"Coast is clear, Dad!" When his father rounded the corner, Greg held up his Starbucks cup. "He just ran over here to surprise me with one of my favorite coffees."

"Aww, that's sweet, he's treating you right. Maybe I can get used to the romance part if we take it slow."

"You and Nick both," Greg chuckled.

"So, this coffee," the supportive father asked, "in gay terms is that like surprising someone special with flowers after enjoying a special time together?"

Watching Nick walk down the pier, Greg broke into a glorious smile. "Yeah."

Walking over to Sara, who had saved them two seats in the conference room, Gil said, "I'm glad I got in before they shut the doors."

"Where we you? You were gone forever."

Gil reached into his pocket for the candy bar he had bought. Presenting it, he whispered, "I know how much you like chocolate at this particular time of the month, but the vending machines on this floor were out of your favorite so I ran around trying to find another machine that had one left."

"Aww." Sara's smile brightened the dreary room. "I'd kiss you, but we're in a public no PDA zone."

"Then I'll expect a raincheck." Gil winked and settled in for the presentation, certain that he had just taken another step in the right direction. "I think it's going to be a fun week, especially now that the boys aren't on the other side of the wall, don't you?"

Unwrapping her prized Twix bar, Sara blissfully sighed, "Yeah."

* * *

**ANs:**

This was obviously a very significant chapter for N/G and I ran it by a few people to see how it read, if it was emotionally charged enough and within the limits of good taste. They gave me a thumbs up, but I would love to hear from others, so I can gauge future love scenes. Thanks!

LOL I had someone email very worried that there was something wrong with them because they never read slash before but found the romantic scenes strangely appealing. The short answer as to why so many women love slash is that it takes the 'chick you'd be comparing yourself to' out of the equation and doubles the number of men to enjoy. LOL it makes perfect sense if you think of I that way.

Besides the shower scene, I hope the Dave and Greg scene had a nice vibe of love and sensitivity. Trying to keep things real with Dave. He's happy for his son, but not excited to discuss in detail that his son is on the receiving end of the Texan's physical love. Who loves him for keeping Jan away?

**Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts!  
****Maggs **


	26. Chapter 26: Bon Voyage

**Where You Are**

**Written By: Ms. Maggs / Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 26: Bon Voyage**

"I'm ready to do it," Nick whispered to Greg as they stood together in the dimly lit space. His whole body shaking, he was determined to overcome his fear. "I can do it."

"You're sure?" Greg asked, feeling less than confident that his buddy was up to the challenge. "Because I don't want you to freak out."

"I'm sure."

"Okay." Greg walked his trembling friend into the stateroom at the front of the boat. "We'll do it in steps, okay. Get on the bed."

Nick did as told, immediately feeling the low ceiling directly above him closing in.

"I'm shutting the door."

"Okay." Nick licked his lips as his breathing labored and when he heard the door close, he emitted a slight gasp.

"How are you doing, buddy?"

"Great," Nick lied as his stomach twisted and knotted.

"Ready for lights off?"

"Do it." He fisted the bedding, tensing in anticipation of the moment.

Seconds after Greg flicked the switch, Nick bolted up screaming, so he re-lit the room.

Nick pointed and panted, "It's the little emergency lights that popped on."

"Did they make you think of how the lights would suddenly come on in the coffin?"

"Yeah." The claustrophobic man jumped off the bed. "It'll be okay, once I know I can move around and leave when I want to. That's how it's been workin' when I've had to process basements and stuff underground." He glanced up at the skylight. "That opens in an emergency, right?"

"Yep." Greg watched his still-traumatized friend busy himself in the small cabin, trying desperately to acclimate. "Don't feel bad, the stateroom can be claustrophobic to people who don't normally even have a problem. The bed goes from wall to wall and kinda looks like a really tricked out coffin if you think about it."

Walking into the bathroom, Nick muttered, "I'm gettin' cremated when I go, because I have no desire to be in another coffin even when I'm dead."

"My parents are going to be cremated and have their ashes spread in the water in Maui. Because then if one goes before the other, they'll still be able to vacation together. I think that's morbidly sweet, don't you?"

"Yeah."

Now that the claustrophobia test was over, Greg re-opened the stateroom door. "If my folks die together in an accident or something, they've asked me to go to Maui and spread their ashes at sunset while playing their wedding song."

"My folks are goin' in the family plot back home." After inspecting every inch of the stateroom, Nick returned and sat on the bed. "Okay, I'm startin' to think I'll be able to sleep here."

"Cool. And if you can't handle it, we can sleep in the conversation area, because the couches convert to a bed and you can see the exit from there. Worst case, we bundle up and sleep up top, or camp on the beach. It doesn't matter to me, I'll do whatever it takes to make you comfortable, because this trip is all about getting you some R&R before you have to report back."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." Nick's breathing steadied. "C'mere." He patted the mattress.

"Uh…" Greg glanced out the door. "My dad's talking to the Harbor Master, but he could be back any minute."

"Shucks, and here I was all ready to rip your clothes off and spit." Nick rolled his eyes. "I just wanted to see if it felt better when you were next to me, ya horny little bastard."

"Sorry." Chuckling, Greg took a seat. "Better?"

"Much." Nick dropped onto his back, and then tugged his buddy down beside him. "I was alone in that coffin, so havin' someone next to me is the ultimate reminder that I'm in a different place. And I sure as hell am in a different place than I was two years ago." He turned his head to be eye to eye with the one person in the world who was actively loving him on a daily basis. "G…"

"Yeah?"

"It really is better with you."

"The claustrophobia?"

"No." Reaching out, Nick cupped his partner's cheek, stroking it with his thumb. "Life is better with you."

"Wow." The hopeless romantic's lips curved into a smile, "That is without a doubt, the coolest thing anyone's ever said to me."

"Then you've been underappreciated for far too long, Greg Sanders." When he saw his boyfriend swoon, Nick winked. "You said you wanted to be wooed, well…it started with the coffee and I'm gonna keep it comin'. How am I doin' so far? On a scale of one to ten."

"Eleven." Greg brought his smile to Nick's. "Wanna redeem your raincheck?"

"Mmmhmm." When the tantalizing kiss left him dizzy, Nick quietly said, "Bein' in a relationship really does work the same for two guys, except for the physical part of course. After all these years never havin' a relationship, I can't believe I'm actin' like a goofy teenager with a guy. We're bein' romantic. We're havin' fun. It's like the real deal, just like relationships between men and women. I didn't think it would be like that."

"Why not?"

"Because growin' up listenin' to my dad and brother talk about gay guys, or the shit you hear, I thought it was only about gettin' laid ten times a night without knowin' who you were screwin', not about bein' a couple."

"It is all about sex for plenty of guys," Greg assured with a laugh. "You've never been to a gay dance club on a Saturday night."

"You have?"

"I used to go when I was in Grad school." Greg decided to leave out that his club visits occurred during a rather embarrassing drug use and oral fixation phase of his life.

"You're not gonna want to go to those places now though, right?" Nick asked with trepidation.

"Hell no, I stopped going to clubs when I moved to Vegas. No, I'm done with that scene, and there's really no point if you're not looking to hook up. Besides, if we went, you'd realize that I'm not exactly a prime catch. I don't work out six days a week and my ass is practically non-existent. Even at your age, you'd have no problem trading up."

"Even at my age? What's that supposed to mean? I'm only thirty-five."

"That's ancient in club terms. Over thirty is over the hill." Greg sweetly laughed, "You missed your gay prime, but I'll be more than happy to help you make up for lost time."

"I'm sure." Nick glanced up at the ceiling. "I don't know, the shower is pretty small here," he joked, trying desperately to remain comfortable with the topic.

"Is that your way of telling me to stay away? Or was that disappointment I heard in your voice?" It was the first time he'd said anything since their morning passion and Greg took it as a very positive sign. "Hmm? Is showering with me something you'd want to do again?"

"Maybe."

"That's a yes." Greg snickered, "I think a little frottage fun on the high seas will help you relax, Cletus."

Nick abruptly redirected back to the original topic, "So I guess gay or straight doesn't really matter. People are either monogamous or like to screw around. They either enjoy living alone or like living with someone. Don't want marriage and kids, or dream of having a family some day."

"Yep, but in the gay community, monogamous couples like us take crap from other guys sometimes, because why would we want to give up unlimited sex when it's there for the taking, you know? Some guys will look at you like you're insane, but don't let that bother you, because there are a ton of gay couples out there, you just don't hear about them like you do the sex-machine stereotype. Mainly because a lot of monogamous gay couples are living in straight worlds, like us, and are forced to keep everything on the down low. I think that will change as same-sex unions and gay marriages are allowed and more people come out, but for now, it is what it is." Propping up on his elbow, Greg softly said, "All you have to know is, I only want you and I'm happy, **very **happy with the way things are going. And yeah," he gave a goofy laugh, "I am a horny little bastard, because I haven't been with anyone in a while and you make me sizzle like an egg on a Vegas sidewalk in July, but I'll be perfectly content grinding with you in the shower until you're ready for more."

Busting at the seams from keeping his feelings in, Nick finally confessed, "That shower was damn hot, wasn't it?"

"Oh yes it was."

"I friggin' saw stars."

"Thank God the hotel had that safety bar in there or I would have fallen down when I blacked out temporarily."

"But to be brutally honest, it was really weird when the moment," Nick quietly laughed, "came. Feelin' and seein' me on you and you on me, that threw me. You're Greggo, we're buds, and suddenly I'm covered in ya…weird, very weird. I was happy to be in the shower, so we could clean up quick."

"I remember my first interaction," Greg smiled at the memory. "Senior year, I went over to this guy's house, Brian Markson, he was in Science Club with me. We went from building a rocket to beating each other off. There's a segue in there somewhere," he laughed. "We were fine in the heat of the moment, but when we realized our hands were covered in each other's spooge, we got totally squicked. So, it's a normal reaction." He shrugged. "Brian and I got over it an hour later when we did it the second time." Laughing harder, he shared, "After that, being science geeks, we'd do it and measure output distance and volume."

"I used to do that jerkin' off," Nick admitted, while simultaneously loving and hating the candid conversation.

"Here's another education tip for the newbie…double the output means double the mess. When interacting outside a water-based environment like a shower, it's prudent for guys to have a couple of towels on hand." Greg rolled over to check the nightstand while his buddy was busy cringing.

"I love that you can just talk about this stuff." Nick squirmed behind his smile. "Because I sure as hell wouldn't be actively askin' questions. If my brother hadn't graphically spilled every detail about his conquests, I never woulda known what to do with a girl either."

Looking into the stocked drawer, Greg sighed, "Just as I suspected, my mommy put a supply of washcloths right here in the drawer…among other things."

"What the hell did your perv of a mother put in there?"

"You're too wet behind the ears yet, boy." Laughing, Greg slammed the drawer shut and shook his head. "No, you've already freaked out once today."

"Now I'm twice as curious." Nick lunged for the drawer.

"No!" Greg threw himself on top of him. "Trust me, you don't want to know."

"I've never had a guy on top of me before." Nick anxiously chuckled, "Not countin' my brother straddlin' me while he beat the hell out of me as a kid. But this doesn't feel too weird since it's not a sex position."

"Uh…you do know guys can do it facing each other, right?"

"Let's add this to the list of conversations I never thought I'd never have." His face starting to flush, Nick shook his head. "No, I always imagined they did from behind. The parts don't line up when you're on top of each other, guy/guy or guy/girl. How would it work?"

"How did you do it with the girls?"

"Doggy style with the experienced ones. With first timers or less adventurous girls, I always did it while spooning, because it's easier for them and it kept me from gettin' carried away."

"Guys do it those ways too, but they do it facing each other when they want to kiss and make eye contact to establish more intimacy…which we now know wasn't a priority when you were with women, so…wow. To answer your question, if a man or woman puts their legs on the guy's shoulders, the right parts line up. The comfort level really depends on the bottom's flexibility, and…"

"Class over for now," Nick pleaded. "I get the gist."

Watching his buddy's squeamish reaction, Greg queried, "All these years, you've never watched** any** gay porn?"

"No."

"Not even an episode of Queer as Folk?"

"What's that?"

"Sex in the City but with gay guys."

"G, I was desperately trying **not **to be gay, so I stayed away from anything and everything gay."

"Everything except me," Greg initiated an Eskimo Kiss. "Be honest, you asked me to move in because you wanted to be with me."

"No, I really wasn't thinkin' like that, at least not consciously," Nick answered in a vulnerable voice. "I asked you to move in, because I was scared you were really gonna leave Vegas."

"Thank you for stopping me from making the biggest mistake of my life," Greg remarked as he righted the universe and rolled their bodies until Nick was in the top spot. "Does this feel more natural for you?"

"Yeah, it does. I'll admit it, I'm a control freak."

"It's okay that you like taking control." Greg latched onto Nick's gaze with his eyes. "Because I like being possessed. I like possessive words like…you're mine, all mine." He captured his gaping boyfriend's bottom lip with his mouth and tugged it. "And I love possessive kisses and touches." Dropping his hands on the pillow above his head, he waited for any return of affection.

Feeling his eager partner grinding below him, Nick's body ignited. "You little shit. 'Rick and I would make fun of you when you'd whine about not seein' any action. I used to call you a hapless twit when you started workin' at the lab."

"My how times have changed." Greg shifted his hips and snickered, "This hapless little twit just gave you a boner in seven seconds flat."

"No, you gave me a raging boner in five." Nick's voice dropped to a sexy rasp, "You're one hell of a god damn tease."

"I'm only a tease if I don't follow through."

"Tell me…why are the backs of your hands tappin' against that pillow?"

"They're jumpy." With a seductive edge in his voice, Greg suggested, "You should probably pin them down before they grab you in all the wrong places, cowboy."

"You think that would be a good idea, huh?"

"No, I stand corrected. I think it would be an excellent idea."

Nick slid his palms up Greg's arms and when he reached his hands, he pressed them deep into the pillow. "Like this?"

"That's perfect." Greg sucked in a breath and then slowly released it. "How's it workin' for you, Control Man?"

"Too good." Nick growled on his way to burn a kiss over his partner's lips. Soon he was savoring the mocha-flavored tongue tumbling with his and letting the world around him melt away. "Way too good." Love and desire trumping fear and awkwardness, Nick allowed his hand to drift past Greg's waist for the first time.

"Shit," Greg huffed just as Nick's hand brushed his thigh. "Get off me!"

"What the hell?" Stunned, Nick jumped off the bed. "I thought you…"

"We're in the stateroom, Dad!" Greg called out while scrambling for a pillow to hold. "We're stowing our gear!" Luckily he had heard him coming down the stairs. "Sorry," he whispered to his dazed partner. "Another raincheck."

"See…you're a tease." Glancing down at his crotch, Nick wished he could stow his gear. Instead, he grabbed his duffle bag from the floor and held it in front of his hips.

"Okay, weather report looks great and you're all set to go," Dave cheerily announced as he breezed into the stateroom. When he saw both men had messed hair, flushed cheeks, and objects in front of their hips, he took a deep breath and said, "I was going to say 'have a great time' but I can tell you already were."

Nick died a hundred deaths in that moment.

"Let's go, son." Dave walked out of the room trying to be cool about his boy getting it on with a guy. "I'll help you cast off and then I want to watch you sail The Love Boat out of here without clipping any of the other moored boats."

Nick died a hundred more deaths and slid down the wall to wallow in his embarrassment.

Walking through the boat, Dave said, "I want you to call as soon as you're moored in Catalina, so I can stop worrying about you getting there safely."

"I promise, Dad."

When they reached the deck, Dave patted his son on the shoulder. "Bon Voyage, and I don't just mean the journey to Catalina. I remember your mother and I taking our first vacation together. It's a milestone. I wish the best. Tell Nick I said so too."

"Thanks. I'd hug you, but…" Greg glanced down. "It would be weird."

"Not a problem!" Dave hurried off the boat while his son started the engine. "Alright, wind direction is toward the dock, so what do you do?"

"Cast off the stern line first."

"Good." Dave tossed the rope and waited for the Freyja to ease into position and then he tossed the bow rope. "You're all clear, son. Take her out." He stood on the pier and watched his boy expertly maneuver the boat just like he had taught him.

"Bye, Dad!"

Dave welled up with tears he couldn't explain. "Have a great trip!" He raised his hand, returning the wave. "And be careful out there." He could say it, but he was helpless to make it happen. His boy was grown and on his way to Catalina and a life he didn't quite understand, but would always support at the end of the day. "I love you!"

"Love you too, Dad!"

When Greg could no longer hear him, Dave wistfully said, "I hope Nick loves you." Because it was about time someone loved his boy, who he knew was quirky, but wonderful in a million ways. "Because you certainly deserve a little happiness after what you've been through."

While the boat was still in sight, the worried father saw Nick emerge on deck. "Good boy." A smile claimed his mouth when he saw the Texan walk over and stand behind Greg, dropping his hands on his shoulders. _That's right…love him, protect him, support him, tolerate his quirks. I don't care what you do in the bedroom, do all those things and I'll be your number one fan_.

The contented father waited until the horizon claimed the boat, and then he strolled down the pier, smiling all the way.

* * *

Sara stood in the corner of the buzzing conference room with a serene smile on her face. The second the lecture broke for a fifteen minute recess, the groupies swarmed her favorite Entomologist like bees to honey. They all wanted two minutes with Dr. Grissom and since she had a monopoly on the man's free time, she thought it would be selfish to steal him away. He was a Forensics god and the college students worshipped him. Having been one of the enchanted masses herself a lifetime ago, she easily empathized. 

When Dr. Gil Grissom lectured at Berkeley ten years ago, the lifecycle of the blowfly was the topic, but he could have been reading the phone book for all she cared. It wasn't love at first sight, not in the Hollywood sense. It was actually love at first words. She remembered them distinctly. 'We speak for the victims who no longer have a voice'; everything he said after that was blur. She couldn't recall what he was wearing, how long he presented, or the questions he fielded; she just remembered feeling inspired by him in every sense of the word.

After the lecture, he granted her a private lecture over in a coffee in a local java dive. She remembered her fellow students being jealous and how honored she felt to be crossing the campus with someone so austere. He said he asked her for coffee because she asked the most intelligent questions, but once they began dating last year he confessed that it was her beautiful ass, not her beautiful mind that had impressed him. Sitting at corner table in the bustling café, he spoke and she listened. By the time he said he had a flight to catch, she was in love and when he called to invite her to Vegas to work, it took all of two seconds to yell out 'yes'.

The ten year journey had more downs than ups, but somehow they had managed to find level ground and co-exist. That's what they were doing, co-existing together, and while neither was particularly good at it, they loved it just the same.

"Sara!" Gil called from the middle of a crowd. "I know we planned to have lunch at…"

"It's okay," she assured him with a smile. "Educate and inspire the masses over lunch, I'll take a raincheck."

"Thanks for understanding." He winked, happy that his significant other wasn't a bitchy shrew like so many other women he knew.

"Have fun, Professor," she winked.

"Dr. Grissom!" A co-ed waved a paper in the air. "Dr. Grissom, is there any way you could read my paper?!"

Listening to the students fight over her man, Sara strolled out of the room, smiling all the way.

* * *

"Mom!" Lindsay shouted from the front door. "You got flowers!" 

"Flowers?" Catherine zipped out of the kitchen, still holding a spatula.

"Roses," Lindsay said while handing over the vase full of ruby red beauties. "Who'd you do?"

"Hey!" Catherine scolded her obnoxious teenage daughter with a glare. "You stayed home from school sick today, so you should be too weak to be a smart ass."

"I was saving my strength just in case I got an opportunity to harass you. So, who sent the Booty Call Bouquet?"

"Get in bed!"

"Is that what the guy said to you last night?" The girl snarked before running away.

"Teenagers." Catherine droned while plucking the small white card from the vase.

_Ms. Willows –_

_Dinner was great. The food was good too.  
__Got plans for Friday night?  
__If not, you do now._

_- Mr. Brown_

"You're on, Mr. Brown. On fire to be exact." Catherine carried the vase of a dozen long-stemmed roses to her bedroom, smiling all the way.

* * *

"We're here!" Greg exclaimed when the Freyja was secured at Little Geiger Cove, a secluded part of the island that only had one mooring spot and a private strip of beach only a kayak ride away. Standing on the deck of the boat he rejoiced, "No people, no parental interruptions, it's just you and me! What do you think about that, Cletus?!" 

"I kinda miss your mom a little," Nick deadpanned. "Actually, I don't think she was shopping earlier, no, I think she's secretly stowed away waiting to jump out waving the Gay Men's Guide to Great Sex."

"No, but she left a copy in the nightstand drawer for you." Rubbing his hands together, Greg said, "Sooo…what do you want to do now that we're here? Snokel? Kayak? Fool around? Walk on the beach? Head into town? Fool around? Hike? Shop? Fool around? You name it."

"C'mere." Nick yanked Greg close and proceeded to aggressively strip him down to his boxer briefs. "Mmm, perfect."

"You're a little overdressed, aren't you, cowboy?"

"Not really." The Texan swept his eager buddy off his feet. "Get ready, you horny little bastard, 'cause it's gonna hurt."

"Uh…" Two seconds later when Greg hit the chilly Pacific water he got the joke. "Do you have any idea how friggin' cold this water is?!"

"Yep." Nick laughed, "It's just what you needed too, 'cause I'm not cashin' in my raincheck until tonight." Leaning over the boat's edge, he laughed at the wet rat swimming to the ladder. "Now get your cute ass up here and get dressed! I wanna go hikin' right now." Grinning, he helped his water-logged love interest on deck.

"What's the rush?" Greg droned while tapping water out of his ears.

"The sooner we go hikin' and get sweaty, the sooner we'll have to come back and take a shower." After a playful swat to the seat of Greg's wet boxer briefs, he winked, "Chop chop, honey. Don't keep your man waitin'."

* * *

**ANs: **

Let the games begin! LOL

Thanks for answering my question on the last chapter. It was great to see that so many of you are loving Nick's slow progression rather than having him go from 'never thinking about a man' to being an animal in the sack.

**Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts! **

**Maggs **


	27. Chapter 27: Tues At the End of the Day

**Where You Are**

**Written By: Ms. Maggs / Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 27: Tuesday - At the End of the Day...**

Standing on Avalon's main street looking up at the clouding sky, Nick said, "I think it was a good call to postpone our big hike until tomorrow. It's definitely gonna rain later."

"Yeah, and now we can hike the whole day tomorrow, instead of just half today." Greg shoved his wallet back in his pocket. "Okay, we're all set. I rented a golf cart for two hours. That's enough time to zip all the way around the island."

"Really?" Nick followed Greg down the block. "The whole island in two hours?"

"Yeah, my parents and I did this every trip. We have to stop at the Wrigley Memorial Gardens too, it's tradition. It's about a half mile hike up a dirt trail to see the monument and there's a great view. On golf cart day, we always ate dinner at the Seafood Shack, it's this place on the bay with picnic tables covered in red and white checkered tablecloths."

"It all sounds good to me."

"Great." With a goofy grin on his face, Greg pointed led the way to the rental lot. "This is our cart. You wanna drive, control man?"

"Nah, you know your way around." Nick hopped into the passenger seat and kicked back. "I'm supposed to rest and relax, remember?" After glancing around to make sure they were alone, he patted his buddy's knee and joked, "So, I'm gonna chill out while you show me a great time, honey."

"Okay, hang on to that A&M ball cap, jocko." Greg zoomed out of the parking lot. "Because I **love** driving these things."

"Careful now, there's a Dad strollin' a baby across the street up there."

"And look," Greg slowed the cart and whispered as though they were on an African safari, "two o'clock. Gay men holding hands. We're not alone on this island."

"Cue the Twilight Zone music," Nick laughed. "They gotta be like sixty doncha think?"

"If all goes well, that could be us one day." Feeling stupid for making another 'happily ever after' comment so early in the relationship, Greg fell silent and resumed the drive.

"So, which one was I when you were picturing our future just now? The chubby one or the one with the bad comb over?"

Happy to hear that the comment didn't freak out his boyfriend of forty-eight hours, Greg replied, "That's a tough call. I never gain weight, so I can't imagine me being the pudgy one, but you also have a fierce history of bad hair choices, so…"

"I was goin' through a friggin' phase! Jeeeez, when are you people gonna let that go?"

"Hey, if you ever want me to stop trying to kiss you, just grow that porn stache back." Greg shivered. "I still have nightmares from that thing."

"How is pickin' on me supposed to help me relax exactly?"

"Aww, we're in our flirtatious stage, Cletus. Picking on your porn stache is the verbal equivalent of me tugging on your pigtails on the playground. Or you tossing me overboard."

"The look on your face when you hit that chilly water." Nick slapped his thigh. "Priceless."

"Here's the first place I wanted to show you." Greg whipped the golf cart to the side of the road. "This is the scout camp I went to every summer." Parking the cart, he jumped out. "Even after all these years, it looks almost the same." His eyes took it all in as memories swamped him.

"Did you like comin' here?" Nick asked from the passenger seat, noting the excitement in his partner's voice.

"Like it? Are you kidding me? Coming here was the best part of the whole year, because we came here for the Father-Son weekend, which meant my mom couldn't go with us. No smothering mother for three whole days, just me and my dad. It was Nirvana, but with mosquitoes and no indoor plumbing."

"My dad used to take my brother and me campin' every summer. We'd go away for four days, just the guys. After livin' with five older sisters, I was happy for the reprieve even if…"

When Nick stopped talking and glanced away, Greg returned to the cart. "Even if what? What's wrong?"

Staring pensively ahead, the son of a Texas hardass replied, "The point of those campin' trips was to make real men out of me and my brother, you know, to toughen us up. My dad was in the military and he loved givin' us a taste of Boot Camp. We had to rough it and sometimes the shit he had us do was brutal. It probably wasn't like that with you and Dave, huh? You guys probably made smores, told campfire stories and had all sorts of fun together."

Feeling sorry for his best friend, Greg quietly replied, "Yeah."

"We ate what we hunted and sat around the fire listenin' to my dad's gory Korean War stories. At home we were expected to be gentlemen, but during those outings, we could drop our manners. We were allowed to cuss, and my dad and brother loved to make off-color jokes, including queer ones. If I struggled to finish a task, they'd call me a faggot and threaten to legally change my name to Nancy instead of Nicky. I….I remember sometimes bein' in my tent at night prayin' they wouldn't be able to read my mind and know that I had thought about boys." Shaking his head, he remarked in a choppy voice, "What will Judge Stokes say if he finds out that in spite of all his efforts to toughen me up and make me a real man, he failed?"

"He **failed**?" Stunned by the self-deprecating statement, Greg snapped, "Are you serious?! You were buried alive in a coffin with a loaded pistol and lived to tell the tale. That's not exactly wimpy behavior, my friend. If your brother and father **ever **give you crap, I'd point that out to them, ask them if they would have made it in the same situation. Warrick's already told you he would have blown his head off if he had been in your shoes. Lots of cops have said the same thing to you, and they mean it. I'd like to think I wouldn't have pulled the trigger, but I really doubt I would have been able to tough it out like you. Talk is cheap, your brother can **say **he's a tough guy, but you've got irrefutable proof that you are, and who you kiss before you go to bed at night will **never** take that away. If your family tells you it does, it's out of ignorance, and I'd like to think you're a smart enough guy to know that just because something's said out loud, doesn't make it true." After a quick breath he said, "As far as real men go, they don't get realer than you."

Turning his gaze to the person he was falling harder for every minute, Nick parroted the words spoken to him earlier, "That is without a doubt, the coolest thing anyone's ever said to me."

Bursting into a smile, Greg said, "I'll take a raincheck on that kiss you're dying to give me."

It was true, Nick couldn't deny it. He wanted to pull his buddy close and kiss him until they ran out of air. "Damn." He grinned from ear to ear, elated that he was finally falling in love with someone after so many lonely years. "I grew up listenin' to my sisters go all boy crazy and I remember my brother actin' like a huge dope over girls, especially the one he ended up marryin'. I watched all of them, but never felt what they were feelin', never felt the rush that made them say and do the stupidest things…but I am now, with you, and I'm lovin' every minute of it even though half the time I sound sappy as hell and feel like an idiot."

"Don't feel bad, I'm so ga-ga I'm hearing birds chirping a sunny tune as I stare into your dreamy brown eyes." Unable to keep a straight face, Greg laughed and pointed up. "It could be because we're parked under a tree full of sparrows, but I prefer to think it's love, of the true variety."

"There's that feelin' again," the lovestuck Texan confessed through a thousand watt smile.

"Two rainchecks!"

"Look at you…with your goofy grin and your hair all mussed from the island breeze." Nick let his eyes wander. "Wearin' one of your crazy-ass t-shirts, a ripped up pair of faded jeans, and those silly bowlin' shoes you love."

"Your point?" Greg queried as he watched his reluctant partner grow more comfortable with his sexuality.

"My point is…you're cute as hell." Nick immediately broke eye contact. "That's the first time I've said that out loud, but I've been thinkin' it for years. I guess I just made some more progress, huh?"

"You really think I'm adorkable?"

"Ha!" His awkwardness surprisingly fleeting, Nick returned his gaze. "Yeah, you're god damn adorkable, G." His curiosity getting the best of him, he prodded, "So, um…what do you think about me?" He immediately regretted asking. "On second thought, don't answer that."

Sliding close, Greg spoke directly in his curious boyfriend's ear, "I think you're sex on a stick, cowboy." With his lips brushing against Nick's earlobe, he added, "That's the first time I've said that out loud, but I've been thinking it since the day we met."

While clearing his throat, Nick pulled his ball cap lower. "Damn, the last time I wanted anything this badly, I was a week away from my seventh birthday lookin' in a bike shop window." He smacked his lips, hoping he could taste their last smooch and pacify his craving. Just days earlier, he was too terrified to admit he was attracted to men and now he was counting the seconds until he could consume his best friend's mouth with a passionate kiss.

"For me, you're like the Chemistry Set I wanted when I was eight." Driving up Avalon Canyon Road as fast as the law would allow, Greg snickered, "And just like when my dad took me to the store and bought me that Chem Set, I can't wait to take you home and do some experimenting; creating a little friction followed by some spontaneous combustion to be exact."

"Okay, we're officially changing the subject ASAP." After a hardy laugh, Nick sobered, "Hey, G…for the record, I believe Warrick and the other guys when they say they would have put a bullet in their head, but not you."

"Seriously? You think I'm that tough?"

"No," Nick sweetly laughed. "I think **Jan's** that tough. I think you would have thought of your mommy and been unable to pull the trigger, because if you were found shot to death before you really woulda died, you knew she'd track you down in the afterlife and bitch at you for eternity."

"I think you're probably right." Breathing in a dose of Catalina air, Greg sighed, "God, it feels good to be in a Jan-free zone."

* * *

"Sara!" Jan Sanders called out when she saw her son's co-worker walking on the hotel path. "How are you this afternoon, dear?" 

Surprised and disappointed to see the woman who had driven her insane the previous night, Sara stammered, "I'm…uh…Greg left this morning, didn't he? Why are you still here?" Realizing that sounded harsh, she backpedaled, "I'm sorry, what I mean is, I assumed you were here for Greg, so…"

"If anyone should be saying I'm sorry, it's me, Sweetie." Jan placed her palm on the St. John's Knit powder pink twinset covering her heart and said, "My husband told me that I made everyone dreadfully uncomfortable at dinner last night. Please know I didn't mean to, I just can't help myself. I'm a hopeful romantic who loves talking about marriage and family. It was exciting to be around two wonderful couples so freshly in love. I got carried away. David banned me from seeing the boys off this morning, so Nick wouldn't be subjected to me. I hope you'll forgive me, honey, I truly don't mean any harm."

"Don't worry about it." Sara smiled to assure the woman. "I'm a little too sensitive when it comes to marriage and family."

"Rightly so, dear." Jan empathetically said, "Greg told me about your horrific childhood. I can easily see how growing up in a situation like that would make you doubt yourself when it comes to marriage and motherhood. Poor Jenni, she'll have the same issues, I'm sure of it."

"No, I think she'll be spared thanks to you and your husband taking her in. If I had that kind of stability instead of being bounced around in the foster care system, I don't think I'd have as many trust issues as I do. I wouldn't have gone off to college without an adult to lean on either. It was really hard on me, because I didn't have anyone to call or come home to when things got tough." Sara smiled wider. "Jenni will have that because of you, and she'll have Greg as a big brother too. I'm sure she'll do much better than me."

"Thank you, honey." Jan breathed a little easier on Jenni's behalf. "That makes me feel even better about our decision to take her in."

"Great." In her gut, Sara knew she should make her escape while the conversation was on an upswing.

"As a foster child, how do you feel about adoption?" Jan prodded, "Does your trauma ever make you want to provide a home for a child who is hurting for a loving situation? Is that something you and Gil would ever consider?" When she saw the young woman bristle, the meddlesome mother shook her head. "There I go again, forgive me for being so forward." She covered her faux pas with a joke, "Having a gay son has me thinking about adoption a lot lately, sorry."

"I think it's great that you're being so supportive of Greg," Sara said, hoping to change the subject. "I worked in San Francisco with a lot of gay men whose parents shut them out after learning the truth, and some guys were too afraid to come out to them at all. I had one co-worker, he was forty-two and still hiding from his father, going as far as bringing women to family parties to keep up the ruse and never celebrating Christmas with his significant other. Greg's a lucky guy."

"He certainly is," Jan snickered, "Nicky's a stud. That body of his is solid muscle, and when I think of how tough he had to be to survive being buried…he's a real man alright, an incredible hunk. Mmm, and his movie star smile makes me melt like butter on a hot ear of corn." She fanned herself. "Do you think I'm twisted for finding my son's boyfriend attractive?"

"No comment." After laughing with the giddy mother, Sara informed her, "Nick gives off a tough guy vibe, but truthfully he's an old fashioned guy, a romantic, and a big teddy bear."

* * *

"Howdy, ma'am." Nick tipped his baseball cap at the sweet grey-haired woman sitting in the admissions booth of the Wrigley Memorial Gardens. 

"I didn't think we'd get anymore visitors today," Martha, the kindly sixty-four year old Conservancy volunteer remarked when she saw two nice looking young men approaching the window. "It's clouding up and no one has been by for at least an hour now."

"We're from Vegas," Nick explained, "cloudy and rainy weather's a treat for us, because we rarely get it."

"Sounds more like Texas than Vegas to me," she replied, soaking in the handsome man's good 'ol boy looks. "Plus you're wearing an A&M hat."

"Dallas born and raised, but haven't lived there for about ten years now."

Greg remained quiet so the sweet senior citizen could flirt with his man.

"My sister lives in Henderson, Nevada, I hate visiting her, because it's so god-awful dry there." Handing over a trail map, Martha said, "It'll be five dollars each."

Nick quickly handed over a ten.

"Are you here on vacation?"

"Yeah, my buddy Greg here, he used to come to Catalina every year with his parents and he wanted to show me around the island." Dropping his voice a couple of octaves, he said, "We were in Long Beach for a Forensics conference." He didn't want the woman to think they were a gay couple. "We work together for the Las Vegas Police Department."

Martha lit up. "Ooh, like those people on TV who solve crimes with all the fancy gadgets?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"How exciting."

"Trust me, they make it look much better on TV than it really is."

"Does your shaggy-haired friend ever say anything?" Martha smiled at the younger man who reminder her of her grandson.

Nick cracked a huge grin. "Honestly, this is the quietest he's been in years."

"Hi." Greg waved at the woman checking out his boyfriend's ass.

"You two enjoy your visit." Peering out her booth, Martha said, "Keep an eye on the clouds, Tex."

"Yes, ma'am." Nick tipped his cap again.

Greg led the way through the turnstile and down the dirt path. "You haven't lost your touch with the ladies, Romeo."

"Yeah." Nick adjusted his ball cap. "I think Grandma checked out my ass as I walked away."

"She did," Greg confirmed while taking an ogle for himself. "But who can blame granny when it's so check-out-able." Needling his mate, he said, "I really liked how you told her in a** very** manly tone that we were LVPD co-workers attending a conference. I was waiting for you to yell out 'we're not gay!"

"Shut up." Nick gave his buddy a shove. "I just feel like people are gonna think it by seein' us together."

"Why?" Greg grabbed the worried man's hand. "Because we're so into each other?"

"What's with the hand holding, G?"

"Guys hold hands."

"Yeah, but we said no PDAs, remember?"

"You heard her, there's no one else here." Greg motioned to the desolate surroundings. "It's a huge canyon lined with big trees leading up to a stone monument in the middle of nowhere. Okay, okay." He relented and ended the hand hold. "It's really okay to chill out here. We're alone."

"Cut me some slack, okay? I just got used to touchin' you behind closed doors." Trying to get over his paranoia, Nick anxiously glanced around and when he only saw trees, plants and animals, he relaxed a bit and moved to walk side-by-side. "It's really beautiful here. Thanks for bringing me." While soaking up the canyon scenery, he filled his lungs with fresh air. "It's peaceful too."

"This place was Wrigley's wife's idea." Greg pointed to the cactus garden coming up. "She had that garden built, and the whole place took off from there." Next, he pointed to the monument looming in the distance. "They built that as a memorial to William Wrigley Jr. They worshipped him, because he developed the island, bringing utilities and putting up hotels and commissioning the famous casino building I showed you on the way in."

"Wrigley like the gum?"

"Yep. When we get to the top and look out through the pillars, you'll see the whole island. That's an amazing tribute for a guy, don't you think?"

"Hell, yeah." Staring at the massive structure, Nick sighed, "Most people are lucky if they get a small tombstone and anyone to remember they were alive a week after they pass."

Greg playfully bumped into his suddenly sullen man, "Don't worry, Cletus, I'll never forget you."

Nick playfully returned the bump. "It was like you read my mind just now."

"I did." Greg beamed a smile and pointed to the tree branches above him. "There are those pesky birds singing a happy tune again."

Seeing a tree with a large trunk off to the left, Nick grabbed his buddy by the elbow and yanked him off the trail.

"What are you…" A few seconds later when his back was pressed to bark and Nick was passionately plundering his mouth, he had his answer. The anticipation had finally driven his reluctant lover into action.

"Sorry," Nick panted when he abruptly ended the kiss.

"For what?" Greg stroked his partner's cheek with his palm. "Sorry for giving me the most exhilarating kiss of my life? Not that the ones before this one let me down in any way, but that one...maybe it's because we're outside…or that I didn't see it coming." He exploded into a smile. "Maybe we should do it again so I can pinpoint why."

"I do owe two more." Nick breathed out while their noses and foreheads gently bumped.

Nipping at the lips poised in front of him, Greg teased, "You know what Suze Orman would say…debt is the root of all evil, and should you incur some, it's best to pay it off quickly." When he felt Nick's hand dip under his t-shirt, he gasped.

"Are my hands cold?" Nick whispered while gliding a hand up a man's shirt for the first time. He was kicking himself for giving into his jitters and leaving the Freyja instead of spending a lazy afternoon in the stateroom bed like his id had wanted to.

"No, your hands aren't cold," Greg answered after a second hand grazed his skin and provoked another, louder gasp. "It just feels that good." He proved his statement by running his hands under the back of his now eager partner's tee. "Doesn't it?"

"MmmHmm." Inspired by the loving words he had been hearing all afternoon, Nick initiated a velvety kiss. "Fantastic." Every clash with Greg's tongue fueled the fire within him, making him less reluctant and pushing him to do things he had only imagined. "This is the wrong place."

"Yeah." When Greg felt two strong hands sliding into the back pockets of his True Religion jeans, he rasped, "That's the right place."

"Shit," Nick breathed out.

"Something wrong?"

"No, that's the problem." His hands cupping Greg's ass, Nick threw his whole body into the next kiss. "Okay, okay, that's it." he jumped back wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Any more heat and we'll start a friggin' brush fire."

"Yeah, and to think you freaked when I held your hand five minutes ago." Greg peeled his body from the tree, wondering if the bark pattern was embedded in his flesh. "Wow, it's waymore fun being here with you than it was with the 'rents."

"I bet." After adjusting his t-shirt and picking up his ball cap from the ground, Nick winked. "First one to the top buys dinner before we head back to the boat."

Greg pointed to his hips. "How the hell am I supposed to run when my blood flow has been diverted to my crotch?"

"Then I guess we know who's gonna win the race." Nick backed off grinning.

"Like there was ever any doubt!" The non-athlete took a cleansing breath, adjusted himself and stepped onto the trail. "I can't believe my boyfriend's a jock."

"Well, I can't believe my boyfriend's a geek…or that I even have a boyfriend."

Greg boldly walked up to the ex-running back, stunned him with a quick, lusty kiss, and then said in a panic, "Shit! There are people at the base of the trail. They just saw us kiss and they're freaking out!" He frantically pointed. "Over there!"

"What?!" Nick whirled around. "Where?!" His heart hammering in his chest, he searched for the people. "G, I don't see anybody." He imagined they had already run to the Admissions Booth to report homosexuals acting indecently on the property. He imagined being hauled in for lewd and lascivious conduct and smearing his family's good name in the mud. "How many were there? Did any kids see us? Shit." He turned back. "Did you…" When he saw his geek boyfriend already on the stairs up to the monument, he knew he'd been tricked. "You little shit!"

"Brain over brawn, baby!" Running up the stairs like Rocky Balboa, Greg shouted, "Geeks rule!"

* * *

"Professor Grissom." Sara lifted her wine glass and teased her man, "Should I be worried about your groupies?" He had surprised her with dinner at a fondue restaurant. 

"Fear not." He tapped his glass to hers. "You will always be the teacher's pet."

"Speaking of pets, have you given any more thought to what kind of undividable dog you might like?"

Swirling a carrot in the fondue pot full of fragrant cheese, he shared, "I've always felt partial to boxers, but it really depends what we find when we visit the shelters."

"True." Spearing a bread cube with her fondue fork, Sara said, "I talked to Hodges earlier."

"By choice?"

"I had given him a bunch of stuff to process before leaving town and I wanted to follow up. He told me that Ecklie is boldly flirting with one of the Relief Team members, Marsha Harrison."

"She's at least ten years younger than Conrad."

"What a perv." Sara hid her smirk behind her wine glass.

When Belinda, the bubbly twenty-two year old server bounded up to the table, she cheerily asked, "Hey, I see you're out of carrots, would you like some more for your dip tray?"

Gil looked to his date and when she nodded, he replied, "Yes, please."

"Oops!" The waitress pointed to the woman in the booth. "You dropped your bread cube in the pot, you know what that means."

"Uh." Sara looked to Gil, who appeared equally clueless. "Actually, no, I don't know."

"You have to kiss your date. A big juicy wet one to be exact."

Sara politely informed the girl, "I don't think so."

Gil choked on his wine.

"No, it's true," Belinda assured the fondue rookie. "It's a universal fondue rule. Google it when you get home, you'll see." Belinda suddenly realized her faux pas. "OH! Duh! He's not your date, he's like your uncle or professor or something. I'm really sorry for grossing you out by saying you should kiss an old grey-hair. I'll go get those carrots!"

"Miss!" Gil stopped the teeny-bopper and held up their near-empty bottle of wine. "We'll need some more Pinot too. Lots of it."

* * *

Sitting outside at a candlelit picnic table overlooking the bay, Greg cracked open The Seafood Shack's menu with finesse. "Let's see what you're going to buy me for dinner, jocko." Peering over the menu he snickered, "I worked up a **big **appetite exploring the island today. I'm thinking four courses, maybe five." 

"Knock yourself out, smart ass." Nick raised his amber bottle of Catalina Red Ale. "And order all the beer you can drink."

"Don't mind if I do." They had just received their second round in the bar when they were taken to their table on the patio of the casual seafood restaurant. "I like this local brew, what about you?"

Nick polished off his bottle and then answered, "Like so many other new things in my life, it's even better than I imagined it would be and I can't wait to have more of it."

"On second thought, let's just get appetizers to go," Greg snapped his fingers. "Waiter!"

The waiter hurried over plucking a pen from behind his ear. "My name's Tanner, I'll be your server. Sorry, I saw your menu was open, so I thought you guys weren't ready."

Greg couldn't stop the words from rolling off his tongue, "No, we are most definitely ready. Aren't we, cowboy?"

Nick covered his dastardly smirk with a beer bottle.

"Special occasion?" Tanner asked when he saw the happiness between the couple. "Anniversary maybe? Or are you newlyweds?"

Nick gulped, stunned by the assumption made. "What the hell makes you think we're a couple?" he huffed.

"Relax, Cletus." Greg calmed down his alpha male, "Tanner here belongs to the club. I saw him kissing a guy behind the restaurant when we were walking towards the place."

The waiter broke into a giddy smile, "Not just **a guy**; my boyfriend of** two** glorious weeks."

"We're on our first vacation together," Greg cheerily answered, happy to have someone to tell. "We're on the down low back home, so we're a little jumpy."

"Sorry," Nick apologized, getting that Twilight Zone feeling again. "While I've technically been a lifetime member of the club, I've only recently become active, for lack of a better term." He winked when he saw his buddy nod approvingly. "Yeah, I thought you'd like that, honey."

"There's not much of a scene on the island," Tanner informed the visitors. "The locals won't hassle you, but every once in a while you get shit from tourists, so just be aware of who you're around. Daffy's is the only bar in town, so you'll see a bit of everything there, the mix fluctuates depending on who's on the island. If you're into hardcore leather, you're out of luck, but if you like to shoot pool, they have a decent room with six tables, and they have a karaoke lounge. The shot boy who dances in his underwear on the bar is a friend of mine, if you tell him Tanner sent you, he'll treat you well."

Nick wondered if that was code for something nasty.

"Thanks," Greg smiled at the helpful waiter, "We're here until Saturday, so maybe we'll check it out later in the week." He couldn't resist trying their couple status on for size. "I'm Greg by the way, and this is my boyfriend, Nick."

"Howdy," Nick smiled while panicking on the inside.

"How long have you two been together?"

Nick fielded the question before Greg had a chance, "Seven years as great friends. Livin' together is new for us though." Brazenly taking his partner's hand in front of the waiter, he squeezed it and said, "But we're lovin' every minute of it, right, G?"

Too stunned by the gesture to speak, Greg just grinned and nodded.

"Aww, that's great. So, what can I get you two lovebirds?"

When Nick saw an elderly man at the next table pointing at them while telling, presumably his wife, 'we're sitting next to queers' his smile faded. "Courage is what I could use, Tanner." Releasing Greg's hand he waved his empty beer bottle. "Lots of it."

* * *

"Dinner was great," Sara announced as she slipped into bed with her man. 

"Yes, the fondue with the side order of humiliation was delicious." He tossed his reading glasses on the nightstand and flicked off the light. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed, because at my age, I need all the rest I can get."

"Would you stop!" Sara gave him a shove. "I was wearing the Cal State Long Beach college sweatshirt I had just bought. That's why she thought I was so much younger than you."

_Maybe I should start dying my hair again._ "I don't think that was the only factor."

Feeling bad for him, Sara snuggled close. "You know that opportunity I missed out on this morning?" Nipping at his ear lobe, she purred, "I'd like to cash in that raincheck you gave me."

Gil's troubles instantly faded. "Really?"

"MmmHmm." She swirled her fingertips over his bare chest. "Just close your eyes and relax."

He did as directed, settling in against the pillows and waiting with baited breath.

Sara deftly rid her grateful man of his boxers.

"Ah!" he grimaced from the chill of her icy hand. "I wasn't expecting the chill."

"Sorry." She rubbed both of her hands together to warm them. "Better?"

"Mmm." He closed his eyes once more. "Much, much…ow!"

"What?"

"You have a sharp nail," he blurted, still smarting from the lethal scratch.

"Sorry." She glanced down at her hand and when she saw the offending sharp edge, she nibbled it off. "Problem solved." Nuzzling up close, she joked, "Take three."

Gil closed his eyes once more and breathed deep. "That's nice."

"Good."

Like every other time, Gil considered giving a few suggestions to his lover, but he chickened out. It wasn't that she did it wrong per se, it was a noble effort indeed, but there were a couple of things that he enjoyed that she never did. He felt ridiculous for not being able to verbalize his desires, but not surprised since he had trouble communicating with her about everything else.

"What?" Sara whispered when she heard what she thought was a yelp. "Did that hurt?"

"No, no, that was a moan of pleasure," he lied. She had done that tug-thing she did every time around the four minute mark. He hated it, but he didn't want to make her feel bad. "That's nice," he murmured, making sure she didn't suspect anything.

After a stealthy glance of the clock, Sara picked up the pace.

_She looked at the clock!_ He hated when she did that. It made him think she was bored and counting the seconds until the torture ended.

"Mmm, how much longer?" she rasped, hoping she sounded like she'd be disappointed if he said soon.

_I knew it, she's counting the seconds._ "Soon," he lied, feeling further away than when they'd started_. I love so many things about her, but this isn't one of th_em, he sadly confessed to himself. Closing his eyes, he had to default to the last resort…fantasizing. _Sorry, honey._

A few minutes later when the deed was done and his significant other was running to the bathroom like she had come in contact with live Ebola virus, Gil grabbed a few Kleenex from the nightstand. _I'm too sleepy to get up and throw these tissues away, but if I toss them at the can and miss, she'll kill me._

When Sara returned from washing her hands twice, she found her man asleep holding a wad of used Kleenex. _You're cute even when you're gross._ Returning to bed hyper and lonely, she clicked on her nightstand lamp and grabbed her private journal from her suitcase. After a quick kiss to her slumbering man's cheek, she relaxed against the pillows and readied her pen. "Night."

* * *

After paying the harbor water taxi, the guys boarded the Freyja. 

"Careful!" the driver warned when he saw the men teetering on the deck as he motored away.

They were both off balance from the rocking boat and the beer they had consumed.

"See, good thing you listened to me and took that Bonine this morning," Greg remarked. "With the storm rolling in, the water's getting really choppy. You'd be puking your steak dinner all night." Prone to motion-sickness, he always used medication, but Nick had initially pulled the tough guy 'I never get sick' routine.

"Yeah, you were definitely right. Hey, does that stuff make alcohol hit you harder?" Nick queried while Greg unlocked the cabin. "I usually don't feel this buzzed after only six beers."

"A little maybe." After following Nick down below and flicking on a light, Greg locked up for the night. "Home sweet home."

"Want another drink?" Nick asked from his position in front of the fridge. "Wow, the rain's already here. We literally just made it back."

"I'll have one more, yeah."

Losing his balance, Nick grabbed onto the wall. "Holy shit, this boat is really movin'." The water taxi driver had told them to expect lightning and thunder along with a few hours of rain. "Here."

"Thanks." Greg clasped the beer with one hand, and then lunged for his buddy with his other. "I didn't want to fall," he explained as the first flash of lightning ripped through the night sky.

"And here I thought you wanted me badly." Tossing back his head, Nick took a gulp of Amstel and listened to the thunder rolling overhead.

"I do…badly," Greg assured after taking a swig. "But we can't take a shower during a lightning storm, it's dangerous." He took another sip without breaking eye contact.

"It would be hard when the boat's rockin' this much anyway." Their bodies were slammed against one another for more than safety reasons. "I can barely stand."

"Maybe it would be best to get off our feet." Greg tugged on one of Nick's belt loops. "Hmm?"

"Yeah." After another huge gulp of Amstel, Nick collected their half-full bottles and put them in the sink. "Figured they'd fall if we set 'em down."

"Definitely."

With his hands on Greg's hips, Nick carefully walked him backwards down the narrow hall. "Did you have a good time with your boyfriend today? Did he treat you right?"

"He always does." The steady gaze of Nick's chocolate brown eyes had Greg reeling before they even exchanged their first kiss. "Thanks for dinner, it was great."

"So, you liked your shrimp then, honey?" Nick teased.

Greg snickered at the term of endearment that the Texan claimed to use as a joke; because it was becoming quite obvious that he secretly enjoyed it. "Yeah, I liked the shrimp, but I loved the company." The stateroom was dark except for the tiny emergency lights near the floor and the flicker of lightning coming through the skylight.

"You're shaking," Nick remarked in surprise. "Are you…" His mouth curved into a smile. "You're worried I'm gonna make you to put out since I bought dinner."

"Yeah," Greg answered before breaking into a goofy laugh. "But worried isn't the right word. I'm 'understandably anxious' from the thought of partaking in something new and exciting…especially since I'll be the one taking it." His nervous laughter filled the room again. "But I'm not worried, because I'll be with you."

Circling his arms around his partner's waist, Nick whispered, "I'm a lot more comfortable than I was this mornin' in the shower, but I'm not there yet, and for the record, I have standards for my 'first time dinner'. I'll take ya to a nice restaurant with cloth napkins and the place won't have 'shack', 'pub' or 'diner' in its name."

"Thanks for the hints. I keep my eyes peeled for the signs." The half relieved, half disappointed man snatched a kiss. "Wanna watch a movie to get comfortable? My mom is a DVD junkie, so there's a lot to choose from."

"Yeah, how about you pick the flick, I'll turn down the bed."

"Okay." Swaying as he walked, Greg said, "With the storm, it's a good night for a thriller."

"I was thinkin' the same thing," Nick said, hoping his voice didn't sound as shaky as he felt.

"Poltergeist?" Considering how hot they had been for each other all day, he doubted they'd make it past the opening credits.

"Man, I haven't seen that since I was in high school. Yeah." Nick kicked off his shoes and sat on the edge of the bed to pull off his socks.

After starting the movie, Greg followed his partner's lead, removing everything but his t-shirt and boxer briefs before sliding onto the sheets.

"C'mere." Nick rested against the pile of pillows he had made. When his open arms were immediately occupied, he contentedly sighed, "I can't believe I was worried about sharin' a bed with you last night. That feels like a lifetime ago. After the great day we had, I can't imagine a place I'd rather be."

"You have no idea how psyched I am to hear you say that." Nuzzling closer, Greg vulnerably asked, "Hey…did you really like my island tour replete with geeky factoids, or were you just humoring me?"

"No, I loved it. Every vacation I took as a kid had to have historical value, which means I'm used to a runnin' commentary. I felt right at home." Breathing deep, Nick said with a chuckle, "But you're a hell of a lot more fun to listen to than my crusty old man…and you didn't quiz me over dinner, he always did that on every trip. We all dreaded it, 'cause if you got a question wrong, you didn't get dessert."

"Seriously? On family vacation?" He braced for another scary Stokes family revelation.

"I shit you not." Nick sighed while mindlessly stroking Greg's arm with his fingertips, "One time, during a trip to Historical Williamsburg, Virginia, I missed my Revolutionary War question. I had to sit in Friendly's watchin' my brother and sisters eat Reese's Peanut Butter Cup Sundaes while I sipped ice water. Friendly's is an East Coast ice cream place that we didn't have in Texas, it was a huge deal when we got to go there."

"Did you cry?" Greg asked, knowing the experience would have reduced him to a sobbing mess as a child.

"Fuck no." Nick chortled. "Aside from gettin' the 'real boys don't cry lecture' from the Judge, my brother would have ripped me about it for the rest of the trip and then some. Nope, I sipped my ice water like a real man."

"How old were you?"

"Eight."

"Eight?!"

Abruptly changing the subject, Nick said, "Look, the previews are over and the movie's startin'."

Sensing a nerve had been hit, Greg didn't pry further. "This movie scared the shit out of me when I was a kid." Closing his eyes, he savored the strength of the embrace around him and the steady pace of the fingertips stroking his forearm. "But when I saw it a couple of years ago, it seemed funny, not scary and I couldn't believe I had ever been terrified of it."

"Funny how that happens, huh? How things that used to scare you don't after you understand that nothin' bad is really gonna happen to you. Like how I was scared to kiss you for the first time, but now I…" His words were cut off when Greg turned and silenced him with a needy kiss.

"I thought you might be ready to cash in your raincheck from this morning." With baited breath, Greg waited for an affirmative answer.

Nick replied by pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it across the room. "Did you check all the compartments and verify that Jan didn't sneak on board?"

"Yeah." The son of a meddlesome mother happily reported, "I checked twice just to be sure." Relaxed from the booze, he shed his shirt and crashed back onto the mattress. "It's just you and me, cowboy. The Freyja is our little slice of Brokeback heaven." He did his best Wyoming rodeo boy impression, "And it ain't nobody's business what goes on here, it's just between you and me...unless my mommy has hidden cameras in the room." When he saw the paranoid man glance around he burst into a belly laugh. "Oh, come on, even Jan wouldn't go that far." He hoped.

The alcohol in his veins providing the right amount of liquid courage, Nick swirled his fingertips over his buddy's chest and laughed along with him, "Let's keep all the action under the covers just in case."

"Action, huh? I like the sound of that." Trying to shake his nerves, Greg joked, "Mmm, I know what you're thinking as you run your hand over my bodybuilder's chest. You're wondering how I was able to hide my massive pecs and perfect six-pack under t-shirts all these years. Oh wait, this is reality, not one of my fantasies, and I'm not really chiseled to perfection. For the record, you're just as impressive in real life as you were in my dreams."

"Mmm, are you a talker in the sack, G?"

"Not really, it's the beer and the anticipation making me overtalk." Wrapping a hand around his lover's neck, Greg urged him close. "I know a great way to shut me up though."

Nick gladly obliged, merging their moist, parted lips in a slow, sensual kiss that ignited their bodies and eradicated their jitters. "I couldn't wait to get back here," he confessed while setting off to boldly explore his future lover's chest with his mouth. Much to his surprise, he not only felt comfortable, but eager to pleasure a man.

Writhing from the feel of firm, wet kisses against his flesh, Greg wandered a hand over his partner's muscular back. "That feels incredible," he excitedly admitted as Nick nipped and licked all the right places. "It's been so long."

Knowing his moves were appreciated, Nick blanketed the affection-starved body sharing his bed and turned up the heat. "I believe this is where we left off this mornin'." Gripping Greg's wrists, he pinned them to the mattress.

A grateful moan filled the stateroom.

"Yeah, I knew you'd like that." Nick did too. He liked everything; it felt undeniably exhilarating to be on top of man, their exposed flesh meeting in a desperate horizontal dance while they exchanged increasingly aggressive kisses. He was grateful for the absence of breasts and curves beneath him, for the musky masculine smell in the air versus the stench of flowery perfume, but above all he loved the sensation of their identically aroused parts sporadically bumping during their frantic grind. It was wonderfully right, like coming home after being in the wrong place for far too long.

Loving every inch of the rock hard body on top of him and the forceful grip on his wrists, Greg warned in between choppy breaths, "I'm getting…really heated…really fast."

Nick rocked their bodies until they were on their sides facing each other with a foot between them. "You're not the only one," he breathlessly replied. The rain was pelting the boat now and the flashes and thunder were steadily increasing. Remembering the recent conversation he had with Catherine, regarding her renewed love of heavy petting in lieu of sex, Nick whispered, "Just hands, okay?" before discarding his boxer briefs.

Afraid that his partner had been getting cold feet, the words were music to Greg's ears. "Just hands," he parroted while tossing his shorts. "It's okay to look," he teased, knowing the guy had restrained himself in the shower that morning.

"Yeah, I'm drunk enough, why not." Grinning, Nick let his curious eyes wander. "Your parents had you snipped too, huh?"

"Jan told me that my dad wanted me to match him. I thought about suing, but they did everything else right, so..." Even in semi-darkness Greg could see his boyfriend blushing. "Speaking of perfect matches, we're like practically bookends, doncha think?"

Relieved to discover Greg had been a shower not a grower, Nick laughed, "We'd need a ruler to be sure, but it looks damn close, yeah."

Feeling the nervous tension returning, Greg slid closer. "I guarantee you'll be successful, probably in two minutes flat." Realizing another push was needed, he gently guided Nick's hand to the right spot. "Just think of what you like and do it to me." Thrilled by the knowledge that it was his edgy partner's first time, the initial touch was phenomenally more intense than any previous experiences. "Perfect," he moaned, wanting to leave no doubt in the novice's mind that he was off to a great start. Truthfully, it had been so long since he had been with anyone, other than ripping it off, he couldn't possibly go wrong.

When Nick saw Greg's eyes clamp from the pleasure and felt his labored breathing against his mouth, he wanted to experience the same rush he was giving. _Do it!_ A clap of thunder startled him right as he gripped Greg's wrist. He gasped, expecting a bolt to strike him dead for participating in the carnal act, but when nothing happened, he forged on, successfully placing another man's hand on the most private part of his body for the first time. "God!" he ironically exclaimed, as he secured his place in hell. The masculine touch was a huge departure from a woman's weak, uncertain moves. There were no uncomfortable tugs, tentative strokes, or accidental scratches from long fingernails. No silly questions, no wondering 'how much longer', just focused, expert handling with unbridled enthusiasm for the task at hand. It was like Greg had a roadmap to his body and knew every shortcut even though it was his first trip. He hoped the feeling was mutual, but was too consumed by his own enjoyment to ask for feedback or care.

Their desire and skills equally matched, it didn't take long for the two men to reach a shared crescendo that left them clinging to each other gasping for air.

Remembering Nick's minor post-ecstasy freak out in the shower that morning, Greg quickly fumbled for his t-shirt. "Here." He placed it in his panting partner's trembling hands and then hurried off to the bathroom to give him a couple of minutes and a little space just like he had needed that morning.

Staring at the t-shirt, which he knew was one of his buddy's favorites, Nick recalled Catherine's words _'A few minutes later we'd be panting in each other's faces, sweaty from the rush of our bodies going over the edge in perfect harmony. If a guy handed me his t-shirt to clean my hand, I went out with him again, if not…he became my ex-boyfriend.' _Remembering there were towels in the drawer, he decided to spare the shirt. _Yep, my boyfriend's a keeper._ Upon opening the drawer his eyes widened to saucers. Jan really had done some shopping. After cleaning up with a towel and some vanilla-scented hand sanitizer, he pulled on his boxer briefs.

"Cletus..." Greg called out as he retrieved his underwear from the floor.

"Yeah?" Nick returned to bed, sprawling out comfortably.

"Are you okay?"

A smile cresting over his lips, Nick put all fears to rest. "Couldn't be better. Now get your ass back in bed, we have a movie to watch."

"Cool." Greg restarted the film and then padded over scratching his head and yawning.

"Hey, I'd avoid your side of the bed if I were you."

"**Now** it's my side. Nice." Greg pointed to the linen closet. "My mom has ten sets of sheets, so I'll…"

"Don't." Nick winked. "The night's young and those ten pair have to last five days."

"Wow, really? I'm kinda beat from..."

"Just kiddin', c'mere." Nick yanked his partner onto the mattress and spooned their bodies. "I haven't actually fallen asleep spooning someone in years."

"I'm honored." Greg sighed, "I think we set the bar pretty high on day one of vacation…lots of laughs…great food…red hot action." He chuckled, "I don't know about you, but I'm looking forward to trying to top it tomorrow."

Nick deadpanned his reply, "I thought we agreed I'm the top?" After a shared laugh, he whispered in his buddy's ear, "You really know what you're doin' with your hands, my friend."

"You know what they say…practice, practice, practice. Spending most nights alone, I've had plenty of opportunity."

"Your lonely nights are over, G." Always one to nod off after release, Nick closed his eyes and enjoyed the rocking of the boat and the company. "Hell, you couldn't get rid of me now if you tried."

"Like I'd try." Greg's breathing slowed to a sleepy rhythm. "Why do you smell like vanilla?"

"Nice job, CSI Sanders. There's vanilla-scented hand sanitizer in the nightstand…among other things." Nick sighed, "Hey, where is the Gay Boy Mall anyway? Is it on Industrial or…"

"It's an online store."

"Oh."

"Why? Were you thinking of shopping there, Cletus?" Greg teased.

"Your birthday is coming up," Nick joked. After a quick kiss to the cheek, he whispered, "Goodnight."

Breathing in sync, the two men rapidly drifted.

"Perk nine," Greg murmured, "We're guys. We both get sleepy after The Big O. Night."

**

* * *

**

**ANs:**

I hope you enjoyed the extra-long chappie, it was double the norm. I decided to write 1 chapter for each day of the trip, so I didn't want to break it in two : )

Gil and Sara are getting a little less time at the moment because they are already an established couple. The boys are playing catch up at this point. Sara and Gil are kind of building mental checklists of things they'd like to address but aren't. Anyone ever in a relationship knows how that goes...people always reach their breaking point. It should seem like the 2 couples are out of sync, but that doesn't mean they'll leave California the same way : ) I know it can be frustrating to readers who are used to stories resolving quickly, but I like to stockpile emotions and pull stuff together later. It's just like how it took Nick a while to deal with his issues. GS were fine upfront, but now the issues are bogging them down.

**Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts!**

**Maggs **


	28. Chapter 28:Wed Eggshells for Breakfast

**Where You Are  
****Written By: Ms. Maggs / Edited By: KJT and Sheeny**

**Chapter 28: Wednesday – Eggshells for Breakfast**

When Gil returned to his hotel room with muffins and coffee for breakfast, he heard the shower running. "I'm back!"

"I just got in the shower!"

"They had banana nut muffins today," he told her when he reached the open bathroom door. "That's your favorite, right?"

"Yeah." Stepping under the rushing water, she wet her hair. "I'll be out in five."

"Okay." Gil was returning to the table to enjoy his coffee and read the paper when he realized he didn't have his reading glasses. Figuring he had left them on the nightstand, he hurried to get them, but on the way there, he saw what looked like a leather-bound book hidden in the sheets. His curious mind prompting him to take a closer look, he knelt on the bed to retrieve it.

It was a journal. Sara's journal, a private one apparently, since he had never seen her with it, but many of its pages were full.

_I should put it back and pretend I never saw it. _But his inquisitive brain overruled what was clearly the only ethical choice, and he opened to the last page before the blanks. From the date he knew it was the previous day's entry. _She must have written this after I fell asleep last night. _

_**The crunch of the eggshells we're walking on grows louder every day. Why can't he say what's really on his mind? **_

_**There are glimmers. He blew me away comparing his love for me to the Grand Canyon at sunset. I loved that. I love him. I've always loved him. Since the day we met. He knows that, and he knows I waited seven years for him. He knows all that and yet he still can't tell me how he really feels. Why? **_

_**Last night I had to listen to Jan Sanders wax on about marriage and kids while he quietly sipped his wine. How the hell are we supposed to seriously consider marriage or children when he can't even tell me what kind of hand job he likes?! Teenage boys across America are communicating that information to their girlfriends without a problem, but a fifty year old man with a Ph.D. can't tell the woman he loves with all his heart? Why? **_

_**Why does he secretly reload the dishwasher after I've gone to bed instead of telling me I'm not doing it right? Why does he rearrange the throw pillows on the couch when he thinks I'm not looking? Why did he skulk off to the shower alone when he really wanted me to join him? **_

_**When Nick had been with Greg for less than a day, he had no problem telling him exactly what was on his mind. He cursed, he yelled, he threw a glass. Then Greg asked for two minutes to explain and he listened. Their lips were swollen from make-up kisses by the time they got to the lobby. No eggshells for them. They'll probably return from Catalina knowing everything about each other. **_

_**Nothing makes sense. Why was I able to get Nick to get tell me the biggest secret of his life the very first time I tried, but I can't get the man I've loved for seven years to tell me that he likes his couch pillows to rest on forty-five degree angles? Why? **_

"What are you doing?" Sara's voice shot through the room.

Startled, Gil dropped the journal. "Uh…"

"Leave it." Sara hurried over and took possession of her journal. "You shouldn't have."

"I know. I'm sorry." The blood draining from his face, he quietly said, "But I'm glad I did."

Sara got dressed in record time. "I need air."

Before he could summon the words to stop her, she and her book of secrets were gone.

* * *

"My oh my, what big, strong biceps you have, Nicky. You lifted me like I was a feather! Uh…where are you taking me?" 

Mounting the stairs, Nick growled his reply, "The bedroom."

"What?! You can't…no, this is wrong. Terribly wrong!" Jan breathlessly informed the naked stud as she dug her nails into his muscular back. "I can't make love with you. I'm a happily married woman, and you're my son's boyfriend. No matter how much you want me, I can't." Running her hand over his pecs, she gulped, "Well, maybe just a quickie. Oh!" She covered her mouth. "I can't believe I said that!"

"Make love?" Nick stopped dead in his tracks. "What kind of a twisted pervert are you, Jan? I was just bringin' you up to the bedroom because I couldn't find the spare sheets for the guest bed, and Greg and I have already messed up the twenty sets you left us yesterday."

"But why are you carrying me in your burly arms?"

"Duh. So we could get there quicker. I can't wait to change the sheets and use those purple butt beads ya bought us from the Gay Boy Mall." Shaking his head in disgust he berated her, "In Texas we hang perverts like you. Wait until I tell Greg his mommy wanted to do the nasty-nasty with me. You already drive him crazy; this will be the final straw."

"No! No, you can't tell him." Jan jumped out of Nick's arms, cinching her bathrobe tighter. "I was confused. I thought you were Dave."

"Then why did you call me Nicky?" the seasoned CSI quizzed. "Hmm?"

"Um…" She lowered her voice. "Would a batch of Toll House cookies make this all disappear?"

"Jan!"

"What?!" the dreaming woman shouted as she bolted upright.

"Honey? What the hell is wrong with you?" Dave stood at the edge of the bed watching his wife pant. "Were you having a bad dream? You were moaning and writhing."

"Oh. Oh thank god it wasn't real." The fifty-eight year old fanned her flushed face. "Yes. A very, very bad dream." _Sinfully bad!_ "I…I think it's these new hormone pills Dr. Goodwin put me on." Feeling horribly guilty that her subconscious sex kitten had agreed to betray her son and her husband, she wanted to hurl.

"Greg's on hold on the phone."

"What?! Why?" Her pulse skyrocketed. "Is everything alright? He didn't have an accident, did he?"

"No, everything's fine." Dave held up the cordless headset. "He's just being a good son and checking in with you, because he knows you always worry about him when he has the boat."

"Aww." Tears formed in her eyes. "He's such a good boy and I'm such a bad mommy."

_And I thought menopause was bad. Yeesh, this hormone replacement therapy is going to kill me._ Dave warily handed over the phone. "No sex talk, do you hear me? What he's doing in the bedroom is none of your business." _And Lord knows I don't want to hear you recap it for me afterwards. _"Try your hardest to be a normal mother."

"I promise." She vehemently nodded as she took the phone. "Could you bring me a glass of ice water, honey?"

"Sure thing." Dave walked out of the room sighing. In the few minutes he had conversed with his boy, he could tell something was different; the deed had been done. He wished Jan hadn't told him that Greg had been saving himself for Mr. Right. Now every time he'd go in the Freyja's stateroom he'd think of it as 'the place my son bent over and took it for the first time'."Ugh." He thought of the bruise he had seen on Greg's arm and hoped that Nick had treated him right. _I hope he made it special, assuming guys do that sort of thing. Greg sounded too happy to be in pain and he said he was sitting up on deck, so he couldn't be too…sore. Christ,_ _I'll never be able to watch prison dramas again. _He shivered at the thought of his only son being someone's bitch. Then he remembered the previous morning when Nick ran up the pier just to deliver Greg's favorite coffee. _He's a nice guy, not an inmate named Bubba. I need to chill out._

Walking past the composite photo frames his wife had placed on the hallway wall over the years, Dave watched his boy grow up before his eyes. Seeing a picture of ten-year old Greg on their first boat, he paused. It seemed like just yesterday that he was an innocent child showing off his first catch. _Where did the time go?_ Twenty-two years later, Greg was on the deck of the Freyja boasting about the one hundred and seventy-five pound Texan he had snagged.

"David," Jan called out when she stepped into the hallway cinching her robe. "You said you would bring me ice water."

"Yeah, I'm on my way."

"That was ten minutes ago, honey."

"Oh, um...I haven't stopped to look at these pictures in a while and must have lost track of the time." Heading for the stairs he said, "Did Greg sound happy to you?"

Taking her husband's arm, she chuckled, "What does this tell you; he ended the call by saying 'I have to go because I've heard the roaming charges from Cloud Nine are steep'."

A contented smile found Dave's lips. "Did he happen to say if Nick made him breakfast or did anything special this morning?"

"No, Nicky was still sleeping and Greg was making Nana Olaf's Stuffed French Toast to surprise him."

When he reached the bottom step, Dave huffed, "Really? Pfft. The morning after our first time I spoiled you rotten remember?"

"Is **that** why you asked?" Jan laughed hysterically.

"Is it so wrong that I want my kid to be appreciated? Did he make Greg buy him dinner too? Jeeeez, he's already getting everything else paid for on the trip." He shook his head. "This is what Greg gets for falling for a redneck."

"It's not **the **morning after, dear." She patted his arm. "I'm sure Nicky will go all out when the time comes."

"You asked him?!" Dave raged, "I told you to stay out of his sex life, Jan!"

"Talk about the pot calling the kettle black! You're the one trying to find out if Gregory got a morning after omelet out of Nick."

"My reasons for prying are based on my **love and concern** for Greg's wellbeing, not freakish curiosity." He quietly admitted what was really bothering him, "He had a bruise on his arm that he told me was from Nick grabbing him in the heat of the moment. He explained that it was fueled by passion, not violence. He said it was normal, but that's the problem, honey…I don't know what's normal between two guys in the throes of passion. I don't know if Nick is a good catch by gay standards. I want Greg to have the best possible boyfriend, because that's what he deserves, but it's hard to feel confident when I don't know what a good gay boyfriend is or what one does. It would be easy to figure out if he was getting engaged to the right girl, because I know the qualities of a good wife, but as a heterosexual father, I'm completely in the dark about the gay lifestyle." Blowing out a breath, he said, "I don't want to know details, but I do need some kind of proof that he's being treated right, especially after finding out that he let that scumbag Jeff mentally and physically abuse him. Between that and those hoodlums beating him within an inch of his life…"

"Sweetheart…"

"No, I mean it! How many fucking times am I supposed to let my boy be another man's punching bag before I jump in and say enough is enough?!" He threw his hands in the air. "Where did I go wrong with him, Jan? Why does he let people abuse him? Why doesn't he stand up for himself and fight back?"

"Please calm down."

"I'm sorry for yelling." Dave leaned against the wall to catch his breath. "I can't be the only father who's ever felt this way," he sighed. "I think my concerns are legit."

"I called the local PFLAG chapter last week and they invited us to an informational meeting tomorrow evening. They hold it monthly; it's for parents who just found out that their child is gay. They told me that existing members will be there to talk about their experiences and to answer questions. I was going to go alone the first time, because I know you hate group stuff, but now I think you should come with me. There could be a father there who has all the answers you need."

He cringed from the thought of sharing his concerns in a room full of people. "I don't know if I can do that, Jan."

"Of course you can, because you love Greg, and it's what supportive family members do."

* * *

Still half asleep, Nick pawed the nightstand trying to find his ringing cell phone. "H…hello?" he answered with his eyes still shut. 

"Nicky! It's your favorite sister."

"Hey, Gwen," he mumbled.

"Okay, it's your second favorite sister Eileen."

"Just kiddin'," he lied. Eileen was actually his least favorite and he couldn't remember the last time she called. "Is everything okay? Are Mom and Dad alright?"

"Everythin's fine, sugar. Were you sleepin? I figured you'd be just gettin' off your shift."

"It's my day off actually." When he opened his eyes and saw that he was in the Freyja's stateroom, memories of the previous night's intensity flooded his mind. "So, um…what can I do for ya, sis?"

"I'm comin' to Vegas for a Christian Coalition Conference and I wanted to see if I could crash at your place. You're always tellin' us that you have two extra bedrooms if we're ever in town. It's just me; Trevor and the kids aren't comin'; mom's comin' here to watch 'em. I need the retreat, believe me. A bunch of people from my church are stayin' at a Comfort Inn, but I'd feel much safer stayin' with you because that Godforsaken city full of drugs and hookers scares me to death. I'll take you out to dinner for your trouble, and I promise to do your laundry and tidy up your bachelor pad for ya."

"Why is a Christian group meetin' in Sin City? Seems kinda odd."

"We want to bear witness to the depravity and when we're not meetin', we're gonna minister to those who need us the most; the gambling addicts, whores, drug abusers and homosexuals. It's what Jesus would do if he came to Vegas, doncha ya think?"

Staring at the DNA stains on the bed sheets, he anxiously replied, "Oh. I um…yeah."

"So can I stay?"

"Yeah, yeah of course. I said the door's always open." His gaze dropped to the hand towel he had used to clean himself up. While talking to his Holy Roller sister in the light of day, the night's activities seemed terribly sinful. "I…um…I should warn you though. I don't live alone anymore."

"What's this?! Did a girl finally get her claws into my skirt-chasin' baby brother?!"

"Actually no, I'm livin' with a guy."

"A guy."

"Yeah," he gulped. "He's…"

"He's what, Nicky? Why are you hesitatin'?"

After listening to his sister's heavy breathing for a minute he said, "Sorry, I'm still half asleep. He's my buddy Greg Sanders from work, the guy I told y'all about at Christmas, the one who got beaten on the job. Yeah, he needed a place to stay temporarily and I felt sorry for…"

"Good Lord, Nicky!" Eileen's laughter shook the phone. "You just about gave me a heart attack! For a second there I thought you were gonna tell me all those jokes our idiot brother makes about you were on the money and you're livin' queer with some sissified Vegas show boy just like he thinks. I was all ready to start plannin' Mom and Dad's double funeral, because surely they'd die from strokes upon hearin' their son was a fag. Especially after seein' the horrific shame Uncle Len and Aunt Annette have endured at church over Cousin Roy; those poor things."

"Uh…" When Nick started growing nauseous he popped a peppermint in his mouth, hoping it would help.

"I have to be honest, sugar…a couple of people have wondered about you. You're off livin' in a depraved city at the ripe old age of 35 with no serious girlfriend to speak of, while the rest of us are married with kids. I always tell people that the abduction messed you up a bit and you're very focused on your work, but I suppose it's easy now for them to believe otherwise since Cousin Roy has tainted the family with gayness. People think since we have one gay in the family there might be another…like it's a contagious disease. Lord, some people are so ignorant."

"Yeah." Nick hurried to get dressed.

"Thankfully Cousin Roy finally had the good sense to move to San Francisco last year after Uncle Len and Aunt Annette told him to leave their house. Rightly so I say. They offered to pay for corrective therapy, but that boy laughed in their faces tellin' them the Lord made him gay and he was proud. Can you, a red-blooded Texas man, imagine bein' proud of puttin' it up a guys bum?"

Nick remained silent as he broke into a sweat.

"It doesn't surprise me none, we hear that all the time when we're doin' our protest marches, it's so sad, they're such a lost group of people. I tell them it's simple, sex with a man is a sin, you can tell because if God loved queers, they'd be able to make babies together. Why is that so hard for some people to understand? It seems obvious to me. Gwen's the only one who stuck up for Roy, but you know her and her bleedin' heart. I told her she'd think differently if she had sons, not daughters. With two younger boys at home, Aunt Annette certainly couldn't let Roy stay under the roof to corrupt her normal God-loving sons. I told Gwen that it's a win-win for everybody. Now Cousin Roy is doin' his ugly business in a city full of sinners just like him, and we no longer have to worry about him gettin' near our kids at family parties. They like to recruit them young, you know. With Roy bein' 18, I'm sure a 12-year-old boy like my Benny is just what he wants. Oh shoot! Little Gus just fell. I shoulda stopped at five kids, I tell ya. I'll send you an email with my trip details. I look forward to seein' ya, Nicky! Bye."

Snapping the phone closed, he mumbled, "You wouldn't if you knew what I did last night." _I was all ready to start plannin' Mom and Dad's double funeral, because surely they'd die from strokes upon hearin' their son was a fag._ He started to shake. _We no longer have to worry about him gettin' near our kids at family parties_. _I tell them it's simple, sex with a man is a sin, you can tell because if God loved queers, they'd be able to make babies together._

"You're awake!" Greg bounded over to his boyfriend eager to start the day. "Morning, Cletus." When Nick avoided his kiss, he laughed, "If you're worried about morning breath, I don't care. I just want your lips on my lips…and on my chest and on my…"

"Is sex all you friggin' think about?" Nick snapped.

"What can I say, you inspire me. Of course it's all I think about! I'm a guy and I'm with the one I want alone in the middle of nowhere!" Rubbing his hands together, Greg snickered, "Wanna take a shower?"

"No." Nick could feel the walls closing in.

Lunging for his man's hand, Greg said, "You're right; the sheets are already messed up, so let's just…"

"Stop it!" Nick shoved Greg aside. "I mean it."

"You're really serious?"

"Yes!"

Stunned by the 180, Greg stammered, "I…I don't understand. Last night…"

"Was a mistake, a **huge** mistake." When he saw his buddy's hurt reaction, Nick shifted his eyes to the floor. "I…I think this whole trip was a mistake. What I mean is, I made a mistake. I'm dressed because I'm leaving. I can't do this. I'm gonna go back to Vegas today. It's not your fault, it's…"

"What?!" Greg's fingers raced though his hair. "We went to bed in love and you woke hating me so much you can't even look at me? Did I miss something? Did I do something in my sleep to offend you? Why are you doing this?!"

Unable to breathe in the cramped room, Nick grabbed his duffle bag and bolted for the door. "Shit!" Realizing he was on a moored boat with no escape, he reacted like a caged animal, pacing and grunting. "I can't stay here!" he screamed to the sea.

When he emerged on deck, Greg bit back his tears and quietly urged, "Can we please calm down and talk about whatever it is that's got you freaked this time?"

"Call me a boat," Nick begged as his stomach knotted. "Please. Call or I'm gonna have to swim for it."

Without a word of protest, Greg walked to the radio and requested a pick up at Little Geiger Cove. When he was done, he stood behind Nick who was facing the water and shaking like a leaf. "Your boat is on its way, okay? You're not trapped here."

"Thank you." Nick shivered even though he was dressed warmly.

"Please tell me what happened," Greg pleaded as he zipped up his jacket to keep out the morning chill. "Was last night too much? I swear, I didn't mean to push. I really thought you wanted to fool around as much as I did…do."

"No, it's not that." Hanging his head, he explained, "My sister Eileen called just now. I told you about her, her husband's an assistant pastor at the church my family attends back in Dallas." Tears were in his eyes. "I'm sorry, I can't live like this with you…with anyone. I can't be Uncle Nicky the Fag who's suddenly not allowed to be alone in the same room with his nephews anymore. I can't be the reason my parents get dirty looks in church every Sunday. I thought I could, but hearin' her talk and thinkin' about what we did last night. I can't hurt them, or me, that much."

Exhausted from a year of being shit on by everyone, Greg took a deep breath and replied, "But after eight years of friendship, after having the best time living together for the last two months, after I introduced you to my parents as a standup guy, after the intense intimacy we shared in the last 24 hours, after sleeping in each other's arms all night…" Tears welled in his eyes. "After I indirectly told you I love you at least a dozen times yesterday, you can hurt **me **in a heartbeat? You can walk away from our relationship because of one friggin' phone call from a sister who didn't even care enough to visit or call you after you almost died? Is that right? Do I have my facts correct,** buddy**?! Isn't Eileen the one who forgot your birthday last year?!"

"I'm sorry," Nick whispered as fear stopped him from following his heart. "I'm really sorry."

"No, you're not sorry, not yet anyway. Sorry means you recognize you made a mistake and you regret it. Sorry is what you're **going to be** as soon as you leave this boat and realize you just made the biggest mistake of your life. And then it'll be **too late**, because I'm done being a doormat for you, **for everyone!** Once you leave, you are **not** welcome aboard the Freyja ever again, do you hear me?" Anger filling his voice, he yelled, **"Do we have an understanding?!"**

Gripping his forehead, Nick choked out, "Yes…I get the message loud and clear."

"Good." After swallowing the lump in his throat, Greg said, "On top of everything else, you're a liar too."

"What?" Staring at the water, tears fell from Nick's eyes. "What do you mean I'm a liar? I'm tellin' the truth. My sister called and…"

"Last night you promised me that you'd take me to a nice restaurant with cloth napkins before you fucked me, but you just gave it to me good and there's not a cloth napkin in sight. See…you're a liar. Last night in bed you said I couldn't get rid of you if I tried. Well, I didn't try, but here you are leaving. You're a fat fucking liar, Stokes! And a coward! That bravery in the coffin was a fluke."

Upon seeing the water taxi in the distance, Nick frantically wiped his tears. "Why can't you understand…"

"Oh, I understand perfectly. You're choosing your father over me. Your father who denied you your favorite ice cream on vacation when you were eight, because you missed a friggin' Revolutionary War question at dinner. I get it, I can't compete with that kind of outstanding unconditional love." Listening to his buddy cry, Greg asked, "Why did your sister call anyway? Huh? Why did she call, Nick?" His anger growing while his heart broke, he screamed, "Did she call to make sure you were happy? Did she call to brighten your day? Or did she call because she** needed** something from you? When was the last time Eileen called **just **to say she loves you and not ask for a favor?! I bet you can't count the years on one hand, can you?"

"Please stop."

"No!" Standing behind his weeping ex-boyfriend, Greg raged, "When was the last time any of your family members offered to drop everything for you? I dropped **everything** to take you on this vacation, to help you decompress and try to save your job. I could be in Long Beach right now making contacts to further my career, but I didn't think twice about calling my dad to get the boat and to plan this trip for you. My dad offered to buy me a place a month ago; a bigger, nicer place than your townhouse, but he could have offered to buy me a mansion in Beverly Hills and I still would have said 'no thanks, Dad, I want to live with Nick, because he's having nightmares and really needs someone around'." In Nick's ear, he snipped, "You're going to miss me."

"I know, but…"

"You are going to miss me so goddamn much, and I don't just mean around the apartment. There's no reason for me to stay in Vegas now that you don't want me, so I'm gone. You can have the city to yourself." Greg broke into a maniacal laugh, "I wouldn't want to stick around and make you sick. Because all I think about is sex, and that might make you uncomfortable. I can't wait to go."

"You don't mean that," Nick cried as his breathing grew more labored.

"Yeah, I do. You should be happy. Now you'll be safe." Greg flippantly said, "The disgusting fag that corrupted you and almost ruined your relationship with your family will be gone. You know, it's fine that you hate me. I'm cool with it, really, because I'm starting to hate you too."

"No, that's not true. I don't hate you." Tears streaming down his cheeks, Nick turned around to beg, "Please…please don't say that."

"I just did." As the boat approached, Greg coolly said, "I'll pack my shit when I get back on Saturday night, but I don't want you there. Go out and pass the time doing something that doesn't shame your family. Like your old favorite hobby, screwing girls you don't care about and who you're not married to while God, your mommy, and your church look the other way, because even though sex outside of marriage isn't allowed according to the Bible, everyone knows that straight, red-blooded Texans get a free pass." Walking down the stairs, he shed his first tear, "Have a nice fake life, Stokes!"

_Don't go. Please don't go._ By the time he reached the stateroom tears were pouring down his cheeks. "I really thought I'd get him to see…" The sound of Nick getting into the water taxi and it speeding away left him gasping_. It didn't work._ An hour ago, he woke up in Nick's arms looking forward to another great day, and now it was over. Sliding down the wall, he closed his eyes, and when he reached the floor, he dropped his head in his hands. "I really thought he loved me."

"He does," Nick confirmed as he dropped his duffle bag. His eyes welling again, he admitted, "He has for a while now."

"But…I thought you…" After clearing his throat, Greg scrambled to his feet.

"Thanks for the hefty dose of Tough Love." Nick nodded as he breathed deep. "I needed it."

"Considering you were raised by Tough Love Extremists, I thought it was my best hope for getting through to you."

"You were great too. You had me blubberin', but you never shed a tear."

"Nah, I started crying when I hit the stairs." Smiling, Greg wiped the dampness from his face. "Then I heard you leaving on the dinghy and I fell apart."

"About that." His whole body shaking, Nick pushed out a jittery smile. "I didn't change my mind until I stepped into the dinghy, which means that I technically left the Freyja. According to what you said, I'm not welcome aboard, but I was kinda hopin' you'd let that slide, because…I'm here, I'm queer, and I love you. I never thought I'd say two out of three of those things." He sobered, "I also never thought I'd say if it comes down to choosin' between you and my family, I'm gonna pick you, because they're my past and you are my future. At the end of the day my parents have each other, my siblings have their spouses, but I'm alone. I don't want to be alone anymore. I want to be with you. I didn't really understand how much until I stepped into that dinghy and realized everything I'd be leavin' behind. So, what do you say? Can I stay?"

"Yeah, but I'm confiscating your cell phone for the remainder of the trip."

"Deal." Nick placed his cell on a shelf and then yanked his forgiving boyfriend into his arms, nearly crushing him with a hug. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay." Greg stroked Nick's hair, truly believing all doubts were finally behind him. "I know that fight hurt like hell, but I think it was worth it. We stared our demons in the face and came out of it much better off. Fighting is good every once in a while, it's a healthy a purge of emotions. We just have to get better at staying calm while we're working things out, okay? We're both emotional people; it gets a little scary."

"Yeah, I agree." Taking another cleansing breath, Nick happily shared, "Hey, for the first time, I feel 100 percent sure of myself. I really do."

"Good."

"It is good, because like your mom said, we already have the friend and livin' together parts down. Last night we found out we can have a good time in bed and this morning we realized what we meant to each other, so…this is it, we know we have somethin' special here." Nick burst into a silly grin. "Holy shit, I really said the L word, didn't I? I've **never** said that to anyone except family."

"Hey." Finally feeling secure enough, Greg said, "I love you too." The first time he had bravely uttered those words, Lacey ended up sleeping with his best friend. The second time he risked it all and let them roll off his tongue, Jeff punched him out. So, when Nick responded by cupping his face and tenderly kissing him on the mouth, he knew the saying was true…the third time was indeed a charm. "You taste like mint."

"You taste like coffee."

"Together we're a mint frappuccino."

"God, I'm so happy I got out of that boat." After calming down in each other's arms for a more few minutes, Nick suggested. "How about we push this all behind us and start the day over the right way?"

Thankful for a new beginning, Greg enthusiastically kicked things off with his usual greeting, "Good morning, Cletus." He followed up with an energetic smooch that got his blood flowing.

Desire simmering in his eyes, Nick slowly guided them backwards toward the bed. "Mornin', G."

"Did you sleep well?"

"Best rest I've had in years. Probably 'cause I was so relaxed when I went to bed." Nick locked his arms around Greg's waist and initiated a kiss, quickly slipping his tongue inside to make another mint frappuccino.

Before he knew what happened, Greg found himself horizontal on the bed. "Wow, you're really good at that infamous Soap Opera Stud move. I didn't even know I was off my feet until I hit the sheets."

Wearing a bad boy smile, the Texan slowly lowered his body. "You know what they say…practice, practice, practice." He strategically aligned their hips to maximize the pleasure. "That's just one of many tricks I perfected over the years."

"With the laaaaaadies," Greg replied with flair, loving the newfound confidence in his partner's eyes. "Now I'm reaping the rewards of all that practice while the lovely ladies of Las Vegas long for their cowboy."

"They can long all they want to, but they can't have me," Nick rasped into Greg's ear before running his tongue along its edge. "Only you can have me."

Greg moaned as his eyes fluttered shut.

"Do you like this?"

"Yessss."

"I love that you tell me what you like and what you want. It's so frustrating when you're in bed with someone who doesn't speak up."

Opening his eyes, Greg puckishly said, "Wanna know what I'm thinking right now?"

In between earlobe nips, Nick answered, "Tell me."

"I have breakfast in the oven and it's about to burn."

"I thought somethin' smelled good."

"Nana Olaf's Stuffed French Toast."

"Ooh! Really?" Putting his stomach's needs over his libido's, Nick bolted out of bed. "I've been dyin' for that ever since you mentioned it at dinner that time with your dad."

As he was yanked to his feet Greg rolled his eyes. "Men…if they're not thinking about sex, it's food."

* * *

Sitting at the small table in his hotel suite, Gil stared at his uneaten muffin and wondered where Sara had gone. Glancing up at the door he wondered for the hundredth time if he should have chased her even though she made it clear she needed air. He didn't have the answer. More often than not, he never knew the right answer when it came to loving Sara. 

Although the newspaper was in front of him, it was Sara's journal entry he kept reading. Just like her, he had so many unanswered whys. Why hadn't he mailed the letter he had written when he was at Williams? Why couldn't he tell her about the pillows or the dishwasher, or that she tugged too hard for his liking.

When his gaze drifted to the wall, he recalled Nick's explosive words coming from the room next door. He remembered the pain and fear in his voice when he shouted exactly what was breaking his heart at the time. Gil wondered what it would feel like to yell the truth the moment he felt it, instead of keeping it all bottled up inside. Thinking of Greg's desperate plea for two minutes of time to explain, he wondered what it would be like to put everything on the line.

"I'm back," Sara announced when she stepped into the room clutching her journal. "But I'm not staying."

Gil blinked to make sure she was really there. "Sara…" She was already on her way to her suitcase. "I…"

Usually she'd rescued him with 'it's okay, you don't have to say anything', but this time, she kept her mouth shut and packed her bag.

Walking over, Gil caught her hand as it reached for shirt. "We need to talk."

* * *

**ANs**

A little turmoil before breakfast for 3 couples dealing with different struggles. Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.

**Thanks! **

**Maggs**


	29. Chapter 29: Wednesday Coming to Terms

**IMPORTANT Author's Note!**** Unlike most other chapters, there are 2 different versions of this chapter (a difference of 1500 words to be exact, that was written in response to a challenge from a couple of readers LOL). If you are a big time fan of the boys, old enough to read M-rated material, and one who enjoys love scenes - you _may_ want to read the version on my website first (msmaggs dot com) instead of the FF version this time. If you aren't a fan of the boys as a romantic pair and are now very worried, you will be perfectly fine reading their 1****st**** scene, but may want to avoid their second if you usually cover your eyes when they kiss : ) Thanks for reading!**

**Where You Are  
****Written By: Ms. Maggs / Edited By: KJT/Chapter Guest-Editors: Sheeny and Mr. Maggs**

**Chapter 29: Wednesday – Coming to Terms**

Yanking her hand from Gil's, Sara backed away from her suitcase. "Which part did you read? I have stuff about me, about my childhood in there, things that I never expected anyone to know."

"I only read last night's entry, and I didn't even finish. I got to the part about Nick and Greg." He pointed to the shower. "I wouldn't have had time for more than that, if you think about it."

"Always a CSI." She smiled momentarily. "That's why I jumped out of the shower. I suddenly remembered I had left my journal there."

"It was terribly wrong of me to read it," He began. "If I were in your shoes, I'd feel violated."

"I do."

"I'm very sorry." Shoving his hands in his pockets, he sighed, "I think I was looking for a clue, about you…about us. We seem so out of sync. Ever since you arrived; but after reading what you wrote, I guess you felt out of sync long before that. I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I…" After a full minute of staring, he confessed, "I really don't know."

"Well, honesty is something I guess." Sara took a seat on the edge of the bed. "Why is this so hard for us? Nick and Greg should be the ones fumbling through. You and I have had something special between us for seven years."

"You could argue, that they have too." He pulled over a chair and took a seat across from her. "Maybe the difference is that they used those seven years to get closer to one another, while we focused on staying apart." When he saw his lover's raised brow, he corrected, "While **I** focused on keeping us apart. Maybe that behavior became ingrained in me to the point where I'm still doing it even though we're together now, whereas Nick and Greg merely added a physical component to an already solid relationship. Their insecurities aren't about whether or not they're compatible, because they know without a doubt that they are. Their only worries are about external pressures, but for us, we not only have the stress of keeping our romance a secret, we're trying to get to know each other intimately at the same time. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah," she nodded, "a lot actually."

"As for why I can't tell you things…" He studied her eyes. "I…I used to be afraid of having you in my life, so I deliberately didn't tell you much of anything, as a way to remain distant. Now that I have you, I think maybe I don't talk to you about stuff because I'm afraid of not having you, which still keeps me unintentionally distant."

"Where do you think that fear of loss comes from?" she asked, feeling almost guilty for prying. "Do you think it's because of your father dying so suddenly? That maybe you're afraid that the minute you get close to someone…the moment you love them completely, they'll die; metaphorically speaking or for real." Her lips closed, she anxiously smiled. "That's what I wrote after the Nick and Greg part of that journal entry. You said that you didn't read that far so I was bringing you up to speed. If you're feeling uncomfortable, I'll forgive you for reading my private thoughts and consider us even."

Remaining silent, he nodded.

"You've never been to therapy, have you?"

"Actually, yes, I have, after my father died. Catholic services provided free family counseling and we went a handful of times. I didn't say much."

"I'm not surprised." Her smile expanded. "It's just me here, not some stuffy psychoanalyst or underpaid PEAP counselor like the one you made me go to after my almost-DUI." Locking her gaze on his, she gently reminded him, "I love you. Your secrets are safe with me."

"Thank you for the encouragement." After pulling in a labored breath and releasing it, he said, "I do like my throw pillows on 45-degree angles. I hate the way you load the dishwasher. I've perfected the process over the years and would be happy to show you the optimal arrangement for that particular Maytag model." Focusing on her smile, he continued, "While I'm thrilled to have your hands on my body, especially below the belt, I wish you wouldn't tug quite so hard on my boys, because they've always been a little over sensitive."

"Duly noted," she laughed. "Now tell me something that wasn't in the journal entry."

"I hate that you don't wipe the top of the mustard container after every use. It builds up and forms crust, I hate that. Frankly I'm surprised a germophobe like you wouldn't be more bothered by that as well."

"I guess it's because I know it's my crust."

After laughing with her, Gil nervously said, "I don't think we have insurmountable problems, Sara, do you?"

She shook her head. "I think our biggest problem is not saying what's on our minds. If we could just be honest with each other…"

"What holds you back?" he probed, feeling comfortable enough to pry.

"When I was on my walk just now, I think I finally figured it out. I was tearing down the path wishing I had stayed and screamed my head off at you like Nick had with Greg the other day, when it hit me…I'm afraid to fight. I'm afraid to be them."

"Nick and Greg?"

"My parents," she corrected. "You know, will heated words turn into throwing a glass at the wall and then throwing punches?"

"I would never lay a hand on you, Sara…or any woman for that matter. You have to know that."

"I do, absolutely." Staring straight at him, she quietly said, "It's me I worry about. What if I'm her?"

"You're not."

"She had no history of violence before she picked up that knife."

"I can understand where the fear originates, but…" Reaching out, he took her hand between his. "You're not her, and you never will be, I believe that in my soul."

Tears welling in her eyes, she nodded. "Thank you."

"May I?" He pointed to the bed.

"Please." The feel of his arms around her, released her tears. "I want to believe I'm not her, but I get scared whenever…I've wanted to kill more than a few men in my time: wife beaters, pedophiles, baby killers."

"So have I, honey, but that's hardly the same as stabbing your significant other over mustard crust. It's worlds away." He smoothed a palm over her back. "Think of how many times our co-workers have said they wanted to kill a perp over a heinous crime. Nick almost did."

* * *

"This view is amazing," Nick remarked when they reached the top of rocky mountain covered in scrub brush and wild grass. "Last night's storm really cleared the sky, you can see for miles." 

"Yeah, I told you it would be great."

Since they hadn't seen anyone for the last hour, Nick felt comfortable enough to slip his arms around Greg's waist from behind. Resting his chin on his shoulder, he quietly said, "Thanks for bringing me here, not just on the hike, I mean on the trip. You really did drop everything to do this for me and I appreciate that and you, and your parents too. They readied the boat, got the permits, and made reservations for us. I'm a real lucky guy."

"Are you feeling the love?" Greg asked while resting against Nick's chest and staring out at the ocean below them.

"Yes, I am." Nick cinched his arms tighter, enjoying the beautiful landscape and the intimate moment. "I may never want to leave here."

"We have a boat and a hundred grand, so we could stay for a while. That would actually be a really comfortable retirement fund south of the border."

With the ocean breeze blowing Greg's floppy hair, Nick brushed it aside to kiss his cheek. "You wanna run away to Mexico with me, G? We could sell seashell necklaces to make beer money. I may not have a job, so why not, right?"

"You'll get to keep it."

"I don't know." The veteran CSI sighed, "Maybe I don't want it back. If I really could stay here, I think I would."

"What really happened?" Greg softly asked. "Why do you think you reacted so intensely?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I think it would help to talk about it before you report back, don't you?" When Nick pulled away, he assumed the answer was no.

"No, you're right, it would help." The troubled man took a seat on a boulder and stared out at the perfect blue sky. "We all have our hot buttons, y'know. Mine's kids."

Greg remained where he was standing, believing it was what his partner wanted at the moment. "I think kids hit everyone hard."

"Yeah." Nodding, he picked a piece of sage brush to occupy his hands. "The ones who are killed instantly, I can handle. You know, the ones who didn't see it comin'. I can reconcile they weren't scared at the time, because they didn't know what was gonna happen. I imagine they're in a better, happy place…heaven…some kind of sweet afterlife, whatever. It's the ones like Cassie McBride…"

"But she's alive, thanks to you." Greg thought of the girl's latest drawings tacked up on their fridge at home. She was eleven now and living with a foster family in Henderson. At her request, Nick visited her every month without fail. He had started going to her school too. The first time was in place of her father on career day, but when the kids loved him, Cassie's teacher begged him to come back regularly and be a positive influence, especially for the at-risk boys in the class. Now Mrs. Martin's fifth graders worshipped him, because he brought cool CSI stuff to show and tell once a month along with cookies and juice.

"Cassie told me she still has nightmares."

"Of course she does. We do, and we were in our thirties when we were traumatized."

"Kids shouldn't have to suffer," Nick remarked after several minutes of silence. "I can't stand knowin' they suffered, knowin' the terror they felt. You know what it's like to think you're about to die." Covering his mouth with a shaky hand, he pulled in a fresh air through his nose. "The girl the other day, her name was Miranda Little, and she was…she was the sweetest little thing. Her head was gone, but I saw pictures of her in the house. She was so cute. How that man could hold a gun to her pretty little head…" The first tear slipping down his cheek, he said, "She collected stuffed animals, she had lots, they all had names, she had them written on their tags. The teddy bear I bagged, its name was Buster, it looked to be about as old as her you know, worn and sewed in a few places." Tears now streaming down his cheeks, he shared in a shaky voice, "From the spatter pattern, I could tell she was clutchin' it when her father shot her. She had already wet herself twice from the fear, I could tell from processin' her pajamas. Can you imagine how terrified that poor little girl was, G?"

Greg's heart ached as his listened, for both victims, the girl and the man who had to deal with the aftermath of such a senseless and brutal tragedy.

"You, me, Cassie…we didn't know the people who were tryin' to kill us. We weren't even intended targets. We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. It doesn't make it any easier, but it sure as hell isn't as hard as havin' it be your own father." Nick let his tears spill along with his secrets. "When it's your own father doin' the hurtin' it's…it's…"

"Did your father hit you?" Greg asked as he took a step closer. "Did he physically abuse you on top of the mental abuse?" It never sat right with him that Judge Stokes's words upon seeing Nick in the coffin were 'Pancho, what the hell you got yourself into'. He sounded disappointed, like he was blaming his son for being captured. Unlike his own father, who never once faulted him for getting beaten, and who had reacted normally, crying out 'why would someone do this to my boy', Judge Stokes blamed his son, the victim.

"Most of the time he used his belt. It wasn't all that uncommon where I come from, not back then anyway. When I screwed up, and I always did as a kid, I don't know why, it was never intentional. He'd um…I'd have to go to his office. That's how us kids knew we were in big trouble, if the Judge called us into his office, we knew we were comin' out with strap marks on our hides. And no one went to his office more than me." Staring into the sky, he looked back in time. "He has this leather chair and first you'd sit in it and get the lecture and then you'd stand up, turn around, and take your punishment without complaint. I think that's why I got so upset when I was cuttin' the duct tape holdin' Miranda Little in that chair he had her trapped in for hours. I could empathize. I knew she had been sittin' there watchin' her daddy turn red in the face…wonderin' why he was so mad at her, wonderin' what he was gonna do to her and how bad it would hurt. I knew how scared she was and how she was probably thinkin' she didn't mean to make him so mad. She probably said she was sorry a hundred times hopin' it would make it all go away." Shaking his head, he choked out, "I'm glad she had her teddy bear with her when she passed, and I'm glad he shot her right in the head, so she didn't feel any pain. I'm glad she's in a better place now and won't ever have to deal with him again." After a few minutes of silent contemplation, he spoke in an icy voice, "I really, really wanted to kill that man."

Unsure if the 'that man' was Mr. Little or Judge Stokes, Greg crouched down next to his best friend and took his hand. "I'm glad you didn't, because then you'd be in jail instead of here with me. And all this stuff with your dad…it's in the past, he can't hurt you now, unless you let him. I know it's hard, because he's your father and you want him to love you, but love shouldn't hurt, not when you're 8 or 35. You were a little boy who probably had undiagnosed Attention Deficit Disorder, that's why you got so easily distracted all the time, or appeared forgetful. You shouldn't have been denied ice cream or love for that, Nick. You should have been getting help, not hurt. Your father's standards were way too high, and he was wrong to compare you to your brother. Every kid has unique challenges and talents." He gave his hand an extra squeeze. "You can't please someone who is impossible to please. There was no way you could have done any better."

"You think I was ADD?" Nick remarked in surprise as he wiped his eyes.

"I'm not a doctor, but from all the stories you've told me over the years and what I've observed, I think it's a real possibility. I know a lot about it from a research project I did in Undergrad. People tend to dwell on the negatives of ADD, but one positive quality is Hyperfocus. When a person with ADD is interested in something they work till they drop, especially hands-on activities, which is your favorite part of the job today, right? We have to drag you out of the layout room sometimes and you'll sit in front of a computer for five hours looking for a needle in a haystack and when we tell you you've been there five hours, you're stunned thinking it's been five minutes. How many examples can you think of from your childhood where you got in trouble because you couldn't tear yourself away from something like a model airplane or new book? Or you saw something that interested you to the point that you became immersed in it and the rest of the world faded?"

"Tons."

"You keep saying things like you didn't mean to be a bad kid or do anything wrong or that you didn't realize how much time had passed or that you were distracted on the way to do something you had been told to do."

"Yeah, I drove my parents crazy with that kind of stuff."

"Boredom is the enemy of ADD and I think you love your job because there's never a dull moment and your mind is always on the run."

"That's an interestin' take, I'll give you that." Nick pondered the possibility.

"Let's say I'm right. ADD wasn't around under that name in the 70s, but doctors were treating kids for it based on symptoms. Your parents never took you to a doctor, they just called you a bad kid and beat your ass with a strap. Then they didn't recognize the signs that you had been molested by a babysitter they hired either. Add the mental abuse your father called good parenting and I'm sorry, but…how can** you** feel like a disappointment to** them**? They should be apologizing to you. You had 4.0 averages in High School and College, and you're a great CSI today. Do you know how many parents would kill to have a son like you? But you let your parents make you feel bad because you're not married with three kids by now, or because you don't have a Masters or a law degree or MD at the end of your name like the rest of your siblings. Every time you come back from Dallas you're depressed and comparing yourself to your brother. Now you're obsessing over disappointing your family further because you're gay. Enough is enough. You'renot the one with the problem."

Finally moving his eyes from the horizon, Nick whispered, "I think you might be right."

"I know I am!" Greg confidently replied. "But if you don't believe me, ask Cassie McBride if she thinks you're a slacker. If it wasn't for you and your refusal to move on when the rest of the world was telling you to, she'd be dead. By the way, that's another really great Hyperfocus example. I'm pretty sure Cassie thinks you're a valuable guy even though you don't have a Masters Degree or a wife. I know I do, and I'm not just saying that because a wife would get in the way of our relationship….okay, maybe that's part of it." He burst into a smile.

Nick stared at his boyfriend. "I'm really messed-up, aren't I?"

"You're a therapist's wet dream; your fees over the years could fund a Mercedes." Grinning wide, Greg tugged him off the rock and into his arms. "But I love every messed-up inch of you." He snickered, "Some inches more than others."

"I knew you were going to say that."

After laughing together in each other arms, Greg said, "Keeping your emotions and secrets locked inside gets really unhealthy after a while. That's why you're so tightly wound."

"I know, I know."

"Lucky for you, I don't charge for time on my couch."

"You wanna be my therapist?"

"Among other things." Greg winked. "Uunpack some more of that baggage you've been hauling around for years." Pushing his buddy onto the grass, he rested next to him, staring up at the sky. "It's a beautiful day, we're in a beautiful place, and we have nothing but time."

* * *

After checking her watch, Jan stared at her husband, who was driving with her to Greg's old Prep School to discuss enrolling Jenni. "Are you still worried?" 

Turning down the radio, the distracted husband replied, "I'm sorry, dear. Did you say something?"

"Please stop worrying about the PFLAG meeting. I'm sure they're lovely people. The woman I spoke with on the phone seemed very nice."

"I'm not worried about the strangers at the meeting. I'm worried about going there with **you**. Promise me you're not going to stand up and say 'My name is Jan Sanders and my husband is having a hard time understanding why our son wants to bend over and take it in the butt' or something equally horrifying and/or humiliating."

"I promise I won't." She assured him with a pat to the knee. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"No."

* * *

On a break from the conference, Gil snuck into the men's room to use his cell phone. "Yes, that's correct, a dozen red, a dozen yellow, and a dozen pink roses all in separate vases." 

"Someone's gonna get lucky," the young flower shop clerk snickered, "or they've really messed up."

Gil stared into his cell phone, and then returned it to his ear. "If you must know, it's the former."

"Former what?" asked the guy forced to work at his parents' shop in exchange for rent money. "Oh! They're for your former girlfriend and you're hoping she takes you back. Good luck, dude."

Rolling his eyes, the professor muttered, "Have the card say 'Shakespeare and champagne to follow.'"

"Shakespeare like the Romeo and Juliet dude?"

"Yes." Gil turned his gaze to the ceiling.

"Is champagne spelled c-h-a-m-p-a-i-n? Or is it c-h-a-m-p-a-n-e?

"Neither," Gil droned. "It's c-h-a-m-p-a-g-n-e."

"There's a G in it? Seriously?! Are you sure?"

While wondering if he shouldn't hang up and call another shop, he replied, "I'm positive."

"Are you over 21?" the clerk asked in an authoritative voice.

"Why is that pertinent?" Gil snipped. "I'm not buying the champagne from you, only the flowers."

"Right. Right. Hey, why are you buyin' champagne? That stuff gives wicked headaches. If you really want to loosen up your former girlfriend and get her to put out, liquor is quicker, ya know what I'm sayin'? Bwamp Chicka Bom Bom! Unless you can get your hands on some E, then she'll really be willing to party. I know a connection. Wait…are you a cop?"

Just as he was about to hang up, Gil heard a woman shout 'How many times have I told you, you're not allowed to answer the phone, Mark! Go help your father in the back!'

"I'm very sorry, that was my idiot son. How may I help you?"

* * *

"Careful, G!" Nick riotously laughed at his buddy who had tripped down the Freyja's stairs. "Jeeeeez, Beavis, you only had five beers." 

"Maybe you aren't suppose to booze when you take those sea sickness pills," Greg remarked from his new position on the floor. "Or maybe those aren't sea sickness pills my mother gave us. Jan probably gave us Ecstasy to make sure we get naked."

"I wish I had a mom like yours. My mama is very anti-nudity."

"Did she keep her clothes on when she was making all seven of you?"

"Probably." After helping the lush to his feet, Nick guided him to the stateroom. "Mmm…today was great. The hike, the baggage dump, and the drinkin' at that café by the water. I feel great." He stole a kiss. "I feel really close to you too, much closer than when we left here this morning."

"Me too." Greg burst into giddy grin. "Uh oh, I'm starting to think Jan did leave us E, because my world is looking better by the minute."

"You ever take it for real?"

"E, K, MJ…yeah, I've been through the alphabet more than a few times." Greg placed his hands on his boyfriend's shoulders and tried to joke with a straight-face. "But nothin' gets me higher than you, cowboy." He burst out laughing.

"Aww, I love you too, honey." With a twinkle in his eye, Nick slyly asked, "Wanna go to dinner with me tonight?"

When the backs of his legs hit the mattress, Greg pulled them both onto the bed.

"Damn, you gotta work on your technique." Nick laughed and winced, "You almost threw out my back."

"Practice, practice, practice…I'm looking forward to plenty of it." After a playful kiss that left him wanting more, Greg said, "I'd love to go to dinner with you tonight."

"Someplace with cloth napkins without shack, pub, or diner in its name?" Nick snickered in his future lover's ear, "I can't believe I'm sayin' what I'm sayin'…but I hope you say yes."

"Yesssss." As his neck was assaulted with lusty kisses, Greg blurted, "But you know what I'd really like to do **before** dinner?"

"What?" Nick asked while lowering his mouth to flesh.

"I'd like to break your silly little 'dinner at a restaurant with cloth napkins first' rule."

Nick lifted his head and stared gape-mouthed.

"You heard right." Greg's pulse notched as they stared each other down, silently discussing the proposition with their eyes.

After an anxious lick of his lips, Nick asked the customary question, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Greg immediately answered without breaking eye contact. "What about you?"

"I…" Nerves made him laugh. "Yeah, but I'll admit I'm a little unnerved by the idea too. Good thing we have some beer in us."

"Why are you nervous? You've done it with the laaaaadies hundreds of times, Tex. You've seen more ass than some Proctologists, so I'm sure you'll find your groove." Laughing along, Greg said, "It works the same with a guy as a girl, except for having a different internal pleasure target, but as I understand it, the prostate is rather hard to miss."

"Let's hope so for your sake." Titillated by the idea, Nick reclaimed Greg's lips with a demanding kiss.

The electricity building between them, Greg excitedly said, "I'll grab what we need. You set the mood."

After prying their bodies apart, they scrambled to their feet to complete their assignments.

"What kind of music would ya like, G?" Nick asked when he reached the stereo compartment. "Do you…" The sound of a nightstand drawer opening across the room made him lose focus. "Uh…" Partly terrified, but wholly excited, his anticipation doubled.

"Pick music that inspires a slow, gentle pace," Greg joked while holding up a large plastic bag labeled 'The Ultimate Condom Sampler'. "Do you have a favorite? It's probably in here."

Watching each other complete their tasks only heightened their already excessive arousal.

"I always leave the condom choice up to the recipient," Nick shared as he flipped through the CD choices, "But I know you've been off the market for a while, so I'll recommend a Trojan Twisted Pleasure if it's in there. It's got a little somethin' special for both of us."

"Found one!"

"That's…" Nick's mind blanked as he watched two hand towels, a foil packet, and a small purple bottle land on the bed. It was really going to happen.

"Stay away from all my Techno grinds, because 180 bpm is a little too much for a newbie, and sorry, no country either. We'll fulfill your hillbilly fantasies down the road though, I promise."

"We'll um…go the traditional route then, R&B instrumental, there's a bunch. Probably 'cause your sex-crazed parents love to get it on in here."

"No doubt."

With a trembling hand, Nick loaded the CD into the player and then moved to turn off the overhead lights and shut the door.

"Check this out." Greg flicked on a fake battery-operated candle. "It's dangerous to have real ones on a boat, so my mom got these. Cool huh?" He clicked on a second one. By the flicker of the faux lights, he shed everything but his stone-washed jeans. "Feeling inspired yet?" He popped open the top button and rested his hand at the waistband.

"Hell, if I feel much more inspiration, I may finish before we start." Trying desperately to steady his breathing, Nick shucked his sweatshirt and kicked off his shoes and socks.

Greg crawled into bed and propped up on his elbows, fully recognizing that his pose, however casual, was turning Nick on a little more ever second.

"You're overdressed," Nick remarked as he shoved his 501s to the ground. Running his hands up his posing partner's pant legs, he said in a sexy rasp, "Let me help you with these."

"I was hoping you would." While the muscular man deftly worked open his button flys, the edgy virgin devoured him with his eyes.

The sounds escaping from his almost-lover's parted lips drove the pent-up cowboy wild. Not since his teen years had he worried about losing it upon contact, but suddenly he feared he might. "I'm really worked up," he confessed while blanketing the equally roused body.

"This probably won't help." Greg jumpstarted the passion with a lusty kiss that soon had their bodies and minds pushed to the brink. "Make a move," he urged, his heart pounding in his chest. "The anticipation is killing me."

Thanks to the sultry music, soft lightning, primal kisses and the knowledge that they were both about to fulfill a taboo desire, the pace had gotten completely out of hand. "We gotta slow things down a little first." Nick slid off to the side. "I know you mentioned other positions, but if it's okay with you, I'd like to stick with what I know for the first time."

The cool air in the stateroom making his warm skin prickle, Greg rolled onto his side. "Like this?" In a heartbeat, Nick was pressed up against him and he couldn't imagine how high his pulse would soar when they shed the one article of clothing keeping them apart.

"It's a little chilly in here." Nick asked in a husky voice, "Think you'll be comfortable like this?" He simulated the act, to give him a taste. "Hmm?" Sliding his palm over Greg's grey cotton briefs, he breathed against his neck, "Think you'll like it?"

"I think I already love it." The first-timer's jitters appeared in a goofy laugh. "God, this is fun and exciting in a really nerve-wracking way."

"It should be that way the first time," Nick whispered. "Does this make it more or less nerve-wracking?" he teased while bringing the bottle right next to Greg's ear and flicking it open with his thumb.

"Definitely more," the virgin laughed and glanced over his shoulder.

"Ha! I thought so." Nick temporarily set it down so he could remove his shorts. "We'll come back to that in a sec."

"I think you're having fun torturing me." The Queer as Folk fan was starting to get a 'watered-down Brian Kinney' vibe from Nick. He laughed, "I was less worried when you were insecure."

"Laughter's good." The expert confirmed, "It's good because it's relaxing and relaxing is exactly what you need to start doin', G. You're way too tense. Take it from Mr. Hundreds of Times, it makes all the difference."

Watching a second pair of boxer briefs sail through the air, Greg's breathing quickened. **"**I kinda thought you would help me relax a little before you…" At the mercy of the sexually-charged man behind him, he suddenly felt incredibly vulnerable.

"Of course I'll help." Grinning, Nick planted a kiss on the back of Greg's neck while swirling his fingertips over his hip. "But you need to loosen up your body with your mind, while I'm usin' my..." A flash of panic raced through him.

"What's wrong?" Greg saw something in his eyes.

"Just me feelin' a little ridiculous and horny at the same time." With an anxious chuckle Nick said, "Carryin' on our tradition of bein' brutally honest with each other, I just thought of me about to do somethin' to you that I've never done to a guy, and you're not just a guy, you're Greggo; my bud, my pal, my best friend. It's not the act itself or the foreplay, I know some people think it's nasty, but it's always been my favorite thing." He gave another anxious laugh. "It's just weird thinkin' I'm gonna do it to you." His eyes studying the incredibly enticing body before him, he gulped, "I've never done this to a friend, only chicks I didn't care about. Doesn't it seem at all freaky to you?"

"Not at all actually." Enjoying the sweetly awkward moment, Greg snickered, "Because as far as I'm concerned, if you can't trust your best friend to treat your ass right, who can you trust?" After a mutual laugh, he added, "If I felt comfortable doin' this with a stranger, I wouldn't still have virgin cheeks, right? I've been waiting to find a friend and lover I could trust, so to me this isn't freaky, it's ideal."

"God, I love you." Nick stole a wet, sloppy kiss and reached for the bottle with renewed confidence. "You** always** know just what to say to make me feel better."

"That's exactly why you should keep me around for the rest of your life."

His breath catching in his throat, Nick considered the statement for a moment, and then softly replied, "That might be nice." He dropped a kiss on the shoulder in front of him. "But I guess we need to find out if we like this first, huh?" Abruptly shifting to levity, he popped open the bottle's cap and winked. "Ready, honey?"

"Go for it, cowboy." Greg glanced over his shoulder grinning. "I know you'll make it special."

The rest was an exciting blur, an ideal blend of intense moves, heavy breathing, and guttural noises, all of which led to an _almost_ simultaneous crescendo of pure joy. Afterwards, they collapsed against the sheets gasping for oxygen, agreeing it was the most intensely erotic experience of their lives. It was something they'd never forget…something brilliant to replace their lackluster hetero first times…something they were grateful to have waited for and shared together, instead of with someone they didn't love…something they definitely enjoyed and would want to do again, and again…and _maybe _even reverse roles one day or every once in a while.

There were no tears of regret afterwards, no freak outs or horrific feelings of damnation. Love and satisfaction were the dominant emotions in the room. Once their passion was quenched and their breathing restored, they morphed from lovers to buddies. In minutes they were racing to be first in the Freyja's small shower and doing rock/paper/scissors to see who would have to deal with the messy sheets. Nick lost, but he didn't care.

Dressed in towels after their shower, Nick wrapped his arms around Greg from behind. "Still up for dinner?" Resting his chin on his partner's shoulder, he sweetly asked, "Or is there somethin' you wanna do?"

Greg laughed, "I'm up for anything except bike riding, horseback riding, or bottoming."

"I told you you'd regret getting that carried away the first time, didn't I?"

Greg snickered, "I'm still glad I didn't listen."

"Yeah, but now you're out on DL for who knows how long." After a smack to his lover's ass, Nick grabbed a fresh pair of boxer briefs. "I need another beer, what about you?"

"Definitely."

Snapping his shorts in place, Nick felt his cheeks flush. "I'm tryin' to wrap my head around what we just did. You're Greggo, you're my bud, we had sex, I can't believe we had sex."

"I can," Greg laughed as he gingerly sat on the edge of the bed. "Can you get my ass an ice pack while you're grabbing the beer?" When he saw his lover's worried look, he laughed again, "Relax, Cletus, I'm kidding, it's not that bad. I'm just milking it, so you'll spoil me."

"I was gonna do that anyway." The cowboy winked and headed for the door. "Because that sex was hot! Red hot!"

"There's no turning back now!" Greg shouted from the bed. "You're so totally gay, Cletus!"

"Yes I am!" the cowboy whooped as he made his way to the kitchen. "Hey, when do I get my official membership card?"

When he heard country music blasting and Nick singing along, Greg crashed onto the sheets. "That's what I get for fallin' for a redneck….hick songs ruining my afterglow." Closing his eyes, he smiled, "That's okay, I'll make sure I have my IPod handy next time." He decided to croon along, making up his own words, "Cletus lovvvvvvvves me. He's gonna buy me a double wide 'cause I let him rock my beeeeeeehind! Cletus lovvvvvvvvvvves me. He's gonna take me to the Sears Outlet Store 'cause I let him in my backdoorrrrrrrrr!"

"Keep makin' fun and I'm comin' back for more right now!"

"Doh!" Greg reached for his cell phone. "I'm gonna call my mommy and tell her you popped my cherry!"

"You are not!" Standing at the fridge, Nick rolled his eyes.

"Oh yes I am."

"Right."

* * *

"Dave!" Jan ran through the house waving the cordless phone. "Nicky told Greg he loved him! And he's serenading him with a country song! And he's taking him to dinner later!" 

"Oh God." Dave lowered the paper. "You mean they…"

Jan made a popping noise with her mouth.

"There has to be a 12-step program out there for you, Jan." Relieved to know his boy was being treated right, Dave lifted the paper to shield his grin. "Did he say what kind of restaurant? Are we talking cloth napkins or paper?"

* * *

**ANs:**

Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts on the chapter! Thanks to Sheeny and my hubby for editing while KJT counts sheep in New Zealand (I'm so jealous! I've always wanted to go there!!) And thanks to Veronica 10 and Tanya for their consultative services LOL : )

I didn't show the details of the GS and NG talks beyond the start, because I like weaving the details in during future chapters. We don't know what was said, but we'll start to see the closeness and find out from watching the characters interact. Obviously it went very well thought since Gil is a planning a big night and Nick and Greg took things to the next level.

I hope the big love scene was satisfying and not too much. It was something based on the love and closeness they felt after an emotional day, not just a gratuitous sex scene. I gauged it on feedback and knew many people wanted a big scene, while others just wanted to know it happened. Hopefully with the two versions, everyone got what they wanted and isn't offended : ) I ran it by a few pre-readers to make sure. Since it was my first slash love scene (and in response to a challenge from a couple of readers), I'd really love to have some feedback on it, plus it will help me decide on the appropriate level of detail for future chapters. Thanks for your help!

**Maggs **


	30. Chapter 30: Love is in the Air

**Where You Are  
****Written By: Ms. Maggs / Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 30: Wednesday – Love Is in the Air **

"Welcome Jan and Dave," the PFLAG welcome committee warmly greeted their newest members. The small group was comprised of two couples - one the parents of a lesbian daughter, and one the parents of two gay sons; two single moms, both with gay sons, and a big sister of a young man saving up for sex-reassignment surgery.

"My name is Connie Dunbar," the group leader stood and handed a pack of pamphlets to the grinning mother and anxious father sitting in the circle. "We always start our meetings in small groups and then we break for refreshments and then come together as one large group to listen to the evening's guest speaker and handle all business for the month. We're very happy to have you joining us tonight. I've given you our welcome kit, you'll find a wealth of information in there as well as a great list of websites and books that may be of interest to you."

"Thank you very much," Jan replied, "For the information and the very warm welcome to the group.

"You should be very proud of yourself for being here," Jack Dunbar, Connie's husband smiled at the couple. "Your son is lucky to have parents who ran to the first available PFLAG meeting upon hearing the news…sadly, that doesn't happen very often. It took me about a year to finally come here with my wife."

"We love our son," Jan boasted. "He's just as wonderful today as he was two weeks ago. Nothing's changed." Grinning, she patted her jittery husband's knee. "Well, nothing except that our boy is now actively having sex with a man. That's been a little difficult for my husband."

"Here we go." Dave turned his gaze to the ceiling.

Tom Faulkner gave a supportive nod. "That's always the hardest part for the dads."

Connie chuckled at her friend. "You have a lesbian daughter, Tom."

"Yeah, but I've watched many new dads wince and squirm over the years, so I can empathize."

"He told me his ass hurts just thinking about it." Jan slipped her arm around her husband's slumped shoulders. "Can someone** please** explain to me why he can't get over his son's caboose being open for occupancy, but has had no problem knocking on my backdoor all these years? What's good for the goose isn't good for the gander's gosling and I think that's a double standard, don't you? A baby goose is called a gosling, right?" she whispered to Dave, who was staring at her gape mouthed.

"I can't hear you, honey, because of all the blood pooling in my ears."

"Ooh! I like you, Jan Sanders!" Marge Westmire clapped her hands. "I said the same damn thing to my ex-husband when he called our son a fudge-packer!" She shook a finger at Dave. "Note I said **ex**-husband. I hate hypocrisy."

"Me too," Jan huffed, "and it's really bothered me." She turned to her husband. "I didn't realize how much until I said it out loud just now. Why is it good enough for me, but not Greg? If it's so demeaning, then you must think women are second class citizens or something."

"What?!" Dave barked at his wife. "That's ludicrous."

"Then explain the double standard!" Marge ordered on behalf of her new pal Jan. "Would it be okay if a hot chick wearing a strap on was giving it to your boy? Or would he still not be worthy?"

Tom interjected, "Really think before you answer that question, Dave."

Watching his wife ready to pounce, Dave cleared his throat and said, "Of course I wouldn't mind if it was a hot chick. It's the thought of a guy violating my son that makes me nauseous."

"Oh," Jan and Marge simultaneously sighed.

Connie jumped in to reclaim her meeting. "Now, let's remember, there is no judgment here." She smiled at the new couple. "What you're feeling is quite normal. In my ten years here, I've heard that very conundrum dozens of times."

Jack Dunbar winked at the new dad. "I felt the same way as you Dave, and answered the question just like that," he chuckled. "The next day, Connie came home with a strap-on and asked me to prove it."

Dave's eyes jumped wide open.

"That's right," Connie winked at her man. "I told him that he shouldn't knock it until he tried it and until he tried it, he couldn't knock it without sounding ignorant, so either he drop his drawers or stop picking on our boy."

Jack laughed, "I chose to stop making jokes, and we gave the unused strap-on to a nice lesbian couple who were financially strapped."

The room exploded in laughter.

Jan pecked her blushing husband's cheek. "See, I told you they sounded like a fun group!"

* * *

"You want me to hang out at a gay bar?" Nick's anxiety returned with a vengeance. "With a bunch of gay guys?" When they called Avalon's finest restaurant and couldn't get a reservation, they postponed their 'cloth napkin dinner' until Friday and dressed for a casual night in town. 

"Odds are there will be a few gays at a gay bar, yes." Smiling at the flummoxed man pacing the ground in front of him, Greg said, "It's okay, we don't have to go. How about we grab some burgers and play mini golf? That was on my To Do list too, because I always played with my dad when we came here; it's a great course."

"But you really wanted to play pool and check out the bar. I said it was up to you and I don't want to go back on my word, especially when it's your special night and we already couldn't have the dinner I promised ya." Nick stuffed his hands on his hips and vulnerably said, "If you really want to go, we'll go, but why do you wanna go?"

"I just want to go where we can be ourselves, have a few drinks and not be afraid to touch each other. After what we shared today, the last thing I want to do is stand two feet away from you all night." Greg gave him a nudge. "One drink. If you're uncomfortable, we'll go, I promise, but I really think you'll end up having a good time."

"Okay."

"See, you want to kiss me Cletus, but you can't out here in the hetero zone." Greg led the way. "Hold that thought."

* * *

Standing in his hotel room in front of the three vases of roses he had delivered, Gil remarked, "Yellow, pink and red, symbolic one and all. Yellow for the friendship we forged over the years. Pink expresses appreciation and I am eternally grateful that you gave me multiple chances at romance, which of course leads up to the red." Plucking a ruby rose from the vase, he soulfully said, "Only fresh cut flowers for the girl who said when describing the Cupid's Kiss wedding venue/murder scene 'Can the love be real when the flowers aren't?'." 

"Nothing gets by you." Sara's smile filled the candlelit room.

"Later that day, Nick and Greg were trading theories on why you were so anti-romance when working that case. They called you a Tom Boy and suspected you weren't comfortable feeling girly and probably didn't own any lace." Raking his lover's lingerie clad body with hungry eyes, he said, "Seeing you lounging in bed wearing only that black lace gown, I'd say they were wrong."

"Actually, they were right," Sara laughed. "I just bought this at Nick's suggestion before driving out here to see you."

"Oh." Gil's lips spread into a grateful smile. "I'll make a point of thanking him then."

"So, are you going to stand there gawking all evening, or are you going to join me?" She patted the bed. "Your note said champagne and Shakespeare to follow." She lifted her glass. "I've got bubbly, but where's The Bard?"

Removing his jacket, Gil winked, "Hold that thought."

* * *

"There's the place," Greg excitedly announced when he saw the sign for Daffy's at the end of the row of restaurants and shops. He hoped that once his newly out partner visited the gay bar he would get a little more comfortable in his own skin. 

Nick grabbed his buddy's elbow. "Hey, I've heard the thing about guys tapping their feet in the restroom stalls, but is there anything else I shouldn't do when I'm around gay guys?"

"Yeah, whatever you do, don't wave your right hand while patting your head with your left."

"Why?"

"Because everyone will think you're a retard," Greg laughed when he was on the receiving end of a scolding glare. "Cruising is all about eye contact. When a guy gives you his 'come hither stare', if you're interested, all you have to do is return the look, hold his gaze, and give a little nod or smirk. Then you both know there's a mutual desire to hook up. But why am I telling you this? You're not looking for action, because you've already had the best guy on the island today and besides that…"

"Faithful is my middle name, G, you've got nothin' to worry about, not tonight, not ever. I'm gonna be a one guy guy."

"For the record, my middle name is Hojem, which is Norwegian for 'I belong to Nick, so back off dude'."

"Good, because you've already seen me in a jealous rage, it isn't pretty."

"No shit, Tex, you scared the hell out of me."

"So we're in a committed relationship and we won't be with other people under any circumstances, no exceptions, do you agree?"

"I do," Greg responded before breaking in a goofy grin. "I guess that makes us unofficially unofficial partners for as long as we can stand each other or one of us dies. Hey, did we just exchange wedding vows?"

"Sounded like that, didn't it?" Nick laughed. "But we weren't even engaged first."

"That didn't stop 'Rick and Yoko from saying 'I do'."

"Yeah, and look how well that turned out." Noticing that they were next to a souvenir shop, Nick said, "Wait right here."

Before Greg could reply, his man disappeared into the store. "This should be good."

Two minutes later, Nick reappeared dangling the shell bracelet like the one Greg had tried on earlier in the day but didn't get to buy because the line was too long. "G…"

"Hey! Aren't you going to get down on one knee?"

Suddenly feeling silly, Nick huffed, "Just gimme your wrist, smart ass."

Greg pushed out a grin while pushing up his sleeve. "I'm sorry, please say what you were going to say, Mr. Old Fashioned Romance. I really want to hear it."

"No, the moment was lost." After he knotted the hemp cord around his partner's wrist, Nick winked. "Consider yourself engaged. Traditionally, you're supposed to use this period of time to decide if you really want to be stuck with me until the day you croak."

"I really can't imagine a better way to pass the time, but since we're going the traditional route and trying not to end up like 'Rick and Yoko, I promise to give it some serious thought and get back to you."

"Okay." Nick laughed at himself and the moment. "Sounds good."

"Hey." Greg grabbed his secret fiancé's hand and tugged him behind a huge tree for a quick, stealthy kiss. "Thank you. I love the bracelet, the sentimentality, and most of all you."

* * *

After freshening up in the bathroom and shedding his conference clothing, Gil approached the bed in his favorite navy blue robe. Holding up his favorite book of sonnets, he grinned, "I've got The Bard." 

Sara fluffed their pillows and settled in for a reading. "What will I be treated to this evening?" She loved his voice, always had, but whenever he read poetry, she found it especially hypnotic.

"Sonnet 116," he revealed while sliding beside her. "Because it's about two people entering into a relationship anchored in trust and honesty. A love that is strong enough to stand the test of time, which I believe ours is in spite of recent bumps in the road or mutual insecurities."

Gazing into her man's eyes, Sara whispered, "I'm swooning and you haven't even read the first line."

"Let not the marriage of true minds admit impediments," Gil began in his most poetic voice. "Love is not love which alters when it alternation finds, or bends with the remover to remove: O no! It is an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken; it is the star to every wandering bark, whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickle's compass come: love alters not with brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved."

"That was beautiful."

"As are you." Gil brought his mouth to Sara's and lingered a kiss over her parted lips. "I still want the undividable dog," he whispered as they Eskimo kissed, "but I felt another, more romantic gesture might be nice too." Reaching into his pocket, he said, "Since we don't want our relationship public, a diamond ring is out of the question, but I thought this piece was lovely." He presented the platinum bangle. "It's a love knot bracelet. I know it's a little Victorian, perhaps too possessive for a modern woman like yourself, but even though you'd be the one wearing it, I thought it was symbolic of us feeling equally bound to one another, so I hope you'll consider..."

"I'd love to wear it." Beaming a smile at the anxious man before her, Sara presented her wrist. "Would you slip it on me?"

"Shall I get down on one knee?" he queried in an anxious laugh.

"Let's not get too crazy," she answered before joining in the laughter.

With a shaky hand, Gil slid the bracelet over Sara's hand and once it was in place, he sealed it with a kiss.

"Thank you." After staring at her new bauble for a moment, Sara lifted her glassy eyes and murmured, "I love the gift, its symbolism, and you."

* * *

"Ready?" Greg asked, while admiring his new bracelet for the third time. "If we walk in together it sends a clear message." 

Going against every natural instinct, Nick took his buddy's hand in public and reached for the bar's door. "Wait! What if we see someone we know in here?"

"Then we know they're gay too and we have a good laugh about it over beers. If you bump into someone else who is hiding it, you don't have to worry about them saying anything, and if you run into someone who is out, then you tell them you're not out and want it to stay that way. They'll respect that and won't say anything in mixed company."

"Right, sorry, I don't know why I'm gettin' worked up." Nick opened the door and pulled his buddy close. "Let's go, sweetheart," he laughed, "I'm dyin' to kick your ass at pool."

Greg replied under his breath, "Considering what you already did to my ass today, that seems a bit ruthless." The tense look on his lover's face was priceless. "God, I love tweaking you." He gently nudged Nick further into the bar. "They won't bite. Actually, I take that back, the guy in the leather vest probably would if you asked him to."

"Most of 'em look normal," Nick whispered. "I didn't expect that."

"Yep, there are a bunch of guys just like us in here." When Greg saw a forty-something wearing a pink satin shirt and a leopard print belt sashaying over, he chuckled, "Except him."

"Hi there! I'm Daffy!" The flamboyant man posed in front of the couple. "I'm the owner of this** fabulous** establishment. Are you two visiting the island or is it my lucky day and you're going to tell me you just moved here?" He glanced at the jocky one's ass. "Because Catalina Island is always looking for a few good men and mmm mmm, you're good, baby…all good."

Pointing to his pal, Nick snapped, "I'm with him." He showed the flamer that he was holding Greg's hand. "We're off the market."

"That's okay, beautiful, I'm just enjoying the view."

"Pardon my partner," Greg greeted the man while trying not to laugh at Nick who kept turning his body as Daffy perused it. "He was hiding in the closet with deadbolts on the door until yesterday. This is actually his first gay bar."

"Reeeeeally?" Daffy squealed. "Then we have to give him the VIP treatment!" He clapped his hands to get the attention of the regulars. "Everyone! This is…I'm sorry, I didn't get your name, sweetheart."

"Warrick," Nick answered in a deep voice.

"Would you stop!" Greg shoved him. "It's Nick, and I'm Greg, and we're on here on vacation until Saturday to answer your question."

"Everyone! This is Nick and Greg. Sadly, they're just visiting until Saturday, but while they're here, we need to treat them well, because Nick just stepped out of the closet ten seconds ago and this is his first queer night on the town." As the two dozen guys in the main room cheered and the shot boy on the bar danced his little heart out, Daffy clapped his hands and shouted to the bartender, "Get the newbie a fruity umbrella drink, Ty! With a cherry on a stick!"

Through a faux smile, Nick robotically informed his buddy, "This is fun."

Guiding his reluctant date toward the bar, Greg said, "You wanted to know when you'd get your official membership card, well…"

The laughing bartender slapped a fruity drink on the counter. "One Freshly Outed Queer with a Cherry on Top." He winked. "Welcome to the club."

As men all around him catcalled, Nick picked up the drink mumbling, "I'm definitely not in Kansas anymore. Thanks, everyone, you can go back to doin' whatever it was you were doin' now."

"Gimme that." Greg snatched the cherry on a stick. "You took mine, so I'm taking yours." After chomping the juicy red treat, he moaned in his partner's face, "Mmmmm."

Desperate to shake his nerves, Nick leaned in and whispered, "Bet it wasn't half as sweet as yours was this morning. Mmmmm."

"Oh! When in Rome, Cletus! When. In. Rome! There's the spirit!" The happy boyfriend rubbed his hands together. "Bartender! Dos Tecates y dos shots of Cuervo Gold, por favor! We have some celebrating to do here."

When he saw a few couples engaging in PDAs, Nick placed a smooch on his excited date's cheek. "Who loves ya, baby?"

"You do," Greg sighed as he whimsically spun a drink umbrella between his fingers. "And you better never stop."

"You know what they say…once you've had Greggo, you can never go back." Just as he was getting more comfortable, a young man wearing only tighty whiteys came strutting down the bar with two shot glasses and a bottle of tequila.

"You want it in glasses or directly in your mouth?"

Watching the guy grind, Nick politely answered, "Glasses would be great, thanks."

* * *

Strolling out of the PFLAG meeting holding hands, Dave said, "I feel much better, sweetheart. Thank you for dragging me here kicking and screaming." 

"You're very welcome, dear," Jan was thrilled to see her husband unburdened. "I'm sure you'll feel even better when Greg and Nick come to dinner on Saturday and you see the love between them.

"I'm sure you're right." Dave checked his watch. "Feel like stopping for a drink? A new wine bar opened just down the block. I saw it a couple of weeks ago when I was having lunch with Parker. With a daughter on the way, we won't have as many date opportunities, so we really should take advantage."

Taking her man's elbow, the contented wife sweetly replied, "A little vino and romance sounds lovely, thank you for asking."

* * *

Plopping down on one of the couches in Daffy's pool room, Nick grabbed Greg's hand and pulled him close. "Those three shots of tequila hit the spot, didn't they, honey?" 

"I'll say," Greg laughed as he settled into the corner of the sofa with a leg draped over Nick's thigh. "No more for me tonight though, because I don't want to get sick like I was after our double date from hell, especially not on a rocking boat."

"Yeah, let's stick to suds," Nick replied while continuing to study the bar's clientele as they waited for an open pool table.

"So, what do you think so far?"

"I'm kinda surprised how many of them are normal guys."

"It helps that we're in Catalina, a tame tourist spot. There probably wouldn't be a good bar here if Daffy hadn't retired on the island. The freak to normal ratio is a lot different in LA or San Francisco." Buzzing from the alcohol and the fun, Greg wore a goofy smile. "I knew coming here would make you feel more comfortable in the long run. I saw three different couples wearing matching rings and one of them was showing pictures of their kids. Now you know you're not the only old fashioned gay guy in America."

"Yeah." When Nick saw a muscle-bound thirty-something guy with wavy brown hair and a killer smile walk over holding a pool cue, he tensed. "Howdy." He made sure not to maintain eye contact or move any part of his body.

"Well, howdy to you too, Tex." The bronzed stud in the plaid flannel shirt and ripped jeans nodded and smiled. "I'm Houston born and raised, but I live in Cambridge Mass now, so I haven't howdied in a while, that was a blast from my redneck past. My partner and I saw you guys waiting for a table and thought you might want to play with us instead."

Patting his worried buddy's knee, Greg said, "Play pool, not hide the salami, so don't flip out."

"Are you the first-timer we heard Daffy yelling about earlier?" The friendly stranger laughed when the shy Texan nodded. "Sorry, didn't mean to freak you out. Ten years ago I was right where you are, believe me." When his partner returned with two bottles of Amstel, he waved him over.

"Hi," a cute, bookish man wearing an MIT sweatshirt and wire-rimmed glasses smiled at the couple. "Are you going to join our game?" He looked to his lover for names. "Did I miss the introductions, honey?"

Nick and Greg remained silent, staring at the unlikely couple.

The burly man grinned at the Texan and dropped a familiar phrase, "We've howdied, but we ain't shook yet, right?" He turned to translate for his Yankee lover. "That means we said hello but haven't been formally introduced." As the other couple stood, he extended his hand. "Pete Manning, firefighter and aspiring chef."

"Nick…um…Brown. Nice to meet ya." He returned the shake. "I was a cop back in Dallas, but I've been workin' CSI in Vegas for about nine years. This is my partner, Greg um..."

"Sanders. Nice to meet you." While trying not to laugh at the name 'Nick Brown', Greg said, "I'm a Chemist and DNA specialist working as a CSI in Vegas too. That's how Nick and I met, we work graveyard together."

"I thought I smelled geek!" The fellow nerd thrust out his hand. "I'm Dr. Kipling Maynard Scott III, but everyone calls me Kip. I'm a research Molecular Neurobiologist on the faculty at MIT. "

"Greg went to Stanford," Nick bragged as he stepped behind his partner and dropped his hands on his shoulders. "He just got his first paper published and is gonna start his Ph.D real soon."

Grinning from the feel of his lover's embrace and his complimentary words, Greg asked, "Are you guys here on vacation?"

"Yeah." Pete dropped his arm around his lover. "We flew to Southern California to celebrate our 3rd wedding anniversary. We were one of the couples who lined up in Cambridge for a license as soon as soon as the legislation was passed. We got ours at 12:43 am on May 17th. We were the third male couple."

"Wow." Nick shared, "My sister was there too."

"Your sister is a lesbian?" Kip queried. "Does she live in Cambridge? Maybe we know her."

"No, she was there as a protestor." Nick explained, "My family doesn't know about me. They're um…very conservative Christian Republicans with a heavy anti-gay marriage stance. I'm pretty sure they'll all flip out about me except for one of my sisters."

"Oh." Kip's smile faded. "That's rough. Peter can relate."

"Yeah," Pete empathized. "That's why I left the Lone Star state. My old man is as hetero as they come. He's a retired Marine officer. I'm his only son and I make him sick. My mom and sister still talk to me though. My mom comes up to Mass every summer. We rent a place on Martha's Vineyard. My sister and her husband come with my nieces and nephews for a week too; it's great. It took a while to get that comfortable though, just give 'em time and don't push them. Kip's parents are the opposite. I swear his mother would have cried if he wasn't gay. We're here because he grew up in San Diego and his family sailed to Catalina every summer. He wanted to show me the place."

Nick laughed at the coincidence. "That's exactly why we're here. Greg has his dad's boat and he's givin' me the childhood tour."

"Except for the local gay bar," Greg joked, "that wasn't on the childhood itinerary." Rubbing his hands together, he walked over to the table. "Thanks for askin' us to join your game."

Pete joked, "Do you want to play tops against bottoms? Jocks against geeks? Or Texans against California boys? Or are those all the same thing?"

"Yes, they are," Nick replied in a manly voice to confirm his position as a top.

"I'll rack," Kip announced. "Pete, why don't you grab a couple of beers for our new friends?"

"Great idea, be right back."

Greg jabbed his lover with a cue. "Everyone knows that pool is a game of science. It's all about trajectory and point of impact. I predict a strong geek win, jocko."

"You wish." Nick scoffed at the idea. "Care to wager somethin'?"

"I sure do." Greg leaned in to whisper, "Winner's choice when we get back to the boat." With a twinkle in his eye, he teased, "I hope your fellow Texan has a good game, or you'll find yourself on the receiving end of something very special tonight."

The sound of balls breaking startled Nick. "You're um…on."

Greg grabbed a beer from Pete's hand and winked at Nick. "Bottoms up!"

* * *

"A little harder, honey," Gil instructed through clenched teeth. "More. Deeper, really make it hurt." 

Straddled on top of her man's thighs, Sara stopped in mid-stroke, "If I massage your shoulders any harder I'm afraid I'll rip them off." She grabbed the bottle of almond-scented oil she had been using. "Who knew you were so into S&M?" She coated her hands. "You don't have a secret membership at Lady Heather's, do you?"

Gil froze, recalling his one misspent night at the dominion. "Very funny," he replied, hoping to cover the tension in his voice with humor. "Okay, that's enough, that was wonderful, honey."

"I'm glad you liked it." She returned to the sheets grinning. "Is there another part of your body that you'd like me to work on?" With her index finger she traced a line from his goofy grin to his belly button. "We could try out our new 'honest living' policy while exploring each other's bodies."

After polishing off the last of the champagne, Gil excitedly replied, "Sounds like a stellar idea to me."

Buzzing from the bubbly she had consumed, Sara snuggled close. "Ladies first."

"But does the lady want to give or receive first?"

"You know what they say…" Sara placed a single kiss over Gil's heart. "It's better to give than receive." Through a grin, she reminded him, "Don't forget to tell me exactly what you like."

"Mmmm." Gil sank back into the pillows. "I like that," he sighed with delight as Sara's hair swirled over his chest on her way south. "And that." he threaded his fingers through her hair. "And **ow!**" he screamed, "Not that, what was that?"

"Sorry!" she tried not to laugh, but the champagne she had consumed was making it impossible. "The knot of my new love bracelet is caught in your hair down here."

"Ow!"

"Sorry!" Her free hand covered her mouth to stifle her laughter. "There's literally a bunch wound around the platinum knot." Glancing up she delicately asked, "Do you want me to tug, or should we head to the bathroom together and use my nail clippers to cut you free?"

"Nail clippers," Gil opted. "And keep your hand close while we're walking, so there's no pulling."

"Okay."

In the process of getting out of bed, they both ended up laughing hysterically.

"You bought me the bracelet because you love me," Sara reminded him, "so this isn't my fault, unless you want to blame me for being lovable."

After wincing from another accidental tug, Gil deadpanned, "They say love hurts. I believe them."

"My clippers are in my toiletry bag." Sara dipped her hand inside to fish them out. "Got 'em."

"One of the bulbs is burned out in here, do you have enough light? It's a jungle down there, you could easily cut my skin if you…"

"Let's move back over to the nightstand and use the lamp light."

"Good idea."

They did their delicate shuffle all the way back to the bed, shaking their heads in disbelief the entire way.

"Wait…I'm not left-handed," Sara remarked while handing over the clippers. "You should do it."

When Gil leaned in, he realized it was all a blur. "I can't see without my reading glasses."

"Where are they?"

"On the table."

"Let's go." Sara stood and waited for her man to shuffle with her.

"Really gives new meaning to the 'old ball and chain', doesn't it?"

"If this was on a sitcom, everyone would say it was too far fetched, and yet it's happening to us."

"Like my Jacuzzi tumble."

"We're apparently cursed," Sara stated while snatching her man's glasses from the table. "Here."

They slipped through Gil's hands and when he bent down to pick them up, he knocked heads with Sara who was also trying to pick them up. "Ow!"

"Ditto." Sara rubbed her scalp "Thankfully the guys aren't next door listening to us."

"On the count of three, we'll carefully bend down and pick up my glasses. "One…two…three." Once they were successfully in his hand, he slapped them on his face for safe keeping. "Okay, back to the bed."

When they arrived, Sara handed over the clippers. "Go for it."

Gil brought the small silver implement to the clump of tangled hair. "Don't move, because I have to get really close to the skin."

"Room service!"

"Oh!" Gil shrieked when he sliced open his flesh. "I got startled from the knock on the door just as I was snipping."

"It's the strawberries and whipped cream I ordered."

"Another example of romance causing me agony."

Now free, Sara rushed for her robe. "You're bleeding. Go take care of that while I get the door." Cinching the satin robe, she hurriedly answered on the third knock. "Hi."

"Everything okay in there?" the Room Service Waiter queried.

"My boyfriend stubbed his toe on the way to answer the door."

"I hate when I do that." He pointed to the table. "You want me to set it down right there, ma'am?"

"That'd be great." She handed over the signed bill. "Have a good evening." After shutting the door, she returned to the bathroom, "Are you okay?"

"I can't put a Band-Aid on it, because the area is covered in hair." Holding a wad of bloody toilet paper above his genitals, Gil droned, "You want me bad, don't you?"

"Terribly," she laughed. "And it was going so well."

"Is a romantic evening full of great sex really that much to hope for?"

"Apparently, when you're us, yes." She pecked his cheek. "There are blood drops everywhere. If there's ever a murder in this hotel room, your DNA will be found."

"I have bleach in my trunk."

"Now I'm worried," laughed the CSI who knew bleach was typically used to clean up after murders.

"You could strip for me," Gil puckishly suggested, "that might ease the pain."

"For you maybe," Sara retorted, "I'd be suffering from embarrassment though."

"Aww, I bet you could shake your ass with the best of them, honey."

Sara flashed a crooked smile. "That's very sweet, but no." Seeing her dejected man holding a clump of bloody tissue just above his almost-wounded wiener, she sighed, "Okay, okay, just one grind."

"I'll get my wallet," Gil snickered, happy that the evening wasn't a complete loss.

"Is this some kind of twisted fantasy of yours?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Gil confirmed with a cheeky twinkle in his eyes. "I don't know why, but I have this recurring dream of you stripping for me while I yell 'shake it Boom Boom Sidle'. It's quite hot actually."

"Uh…" Gaping at her dollar-bill holding lover, she said, "Maybe total honesty in a relationship isn't the best policy after all."

* * *

Standing in the moonlight on the deck of The Freyja, Greg snickered, "Why do you look so nervous, Cletus? Would it have anything to do with you losing our little wager earlier?" He decided to have a little fun making his partner sweat before telling him he had no intention of asking him for sex. 

"G, you know I'm a man of my word, but I'm um…"

"Nervous?" Greg finished as he walked over to the mini fridge in the cockpit wet bar.

"Hell, I'm trashed and it's not even helpin' me chill out."

Greg popped open the bottle top while whispering in his lover's ear, "Don't worry, I'll be gentle."

"Seriously, G." Nick shook his head. "Me bein' on the receivin' end for the first time is a serious thing, not somethin' we shoulda bet on. I'm sorry, I can't. I'm not ready to go there. I know you enjoyed it, but I may never really want to do it that way."

"Tsk tsk. You should know better than to assume, CSI Stokes." While holding his man's gaze, Greg smirked. "The bet was Winner's Choice. You're **assuming** I'd choose what you'd choose." He shook his head. "But I'm not."

"You don't wanna…"

"Nope." Greg handed over his beer. "Would you keep that handy for me?" Once his fingers were free, he used them to work open Nick's belt. His lips spread into a pirate's smile. "As hot as it is, I don't want your booty, Cletus." He captured his lover's mouth for a probing kiss that warmed their bodies in spite of the chilly night air. "You better hold onto something."

"Because the boat's rockin'?"

"No, because I'm going to rock your world," Greg replied in a rasp as he popped open the Texan's Levis. "I predict your knees will go weak after I've been down on mine for a thirty seconds."

"On your knees?" Nick's eyes widened to saucers. "Wh…what are you doing?"

"The one and only sexual thing that I know I have more experience doing than you, which makes it really fun for me." A dastardly laugh tumbled out of Greg's mouth as he shoved his edgy lover's jeans and briefs to his ankles.

"Ah!" The chill of the ocean air on the suddenly exposed parts of his heated body made Nick jump and his flesh prickle. "It's cold out here."

"On second thought," with drunken flair, Greg shoved his man to the white vinyl deck couch, "you need to sit."

"Wh...ah!" Nick gasped as his hot cheeks hit the frigid cushion. "Damn, that's freezing."

"You know how I told you that I went through a gay dance club phase?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I was perfecting my moves, but not on the dance floor, so you're in for a treat."

"I…I um…I don't think I can let you do this."

Greg leaned in to reclaim his partner's mouth for a series of vigorous kisses and persuasive comments. "I loved being with you in that bar tonight; being a couple in public. I loved how you jumped at the chance to tell Kip I went to Stanford and how you bragged about my paper. I loved how you stood behind me in the crowded room, holding me tight, and how you kissed me or touched me every time you left my side. There wasn't a guy in the place who didn't know I was yours" With their foreheads pressed together, he whispered, "I can't believe how much closer we are than when we hugged goodbye in Vegas. In less than a week we've gone from buddies to lovers. It's incredible, isn't it?"

Stroking Greg's cheek with his thumb, Nick said, "You're frickin' adorable when you're wasted and emotional, you know that?"

"It's all part of my geekish charm." Wearing a wild smile, Greg gushed a little more, "I'm crazy about you, like out of my mind picturing us together thirty years from now nuts about you kind of happy. Today was amazing…hearing you say you love me…having you inside me…watching you tie the shell bracelet around my wrist." When their eyes locked, his voice cracked, "Best damn day of my life."

"Mine too," Nick whispered without hesitation.

"That's why I want to get closer." Greg trailed kisses from Nick's ear, down his neck. "I need to get closer." He shoved up his lover's shirt and sweater so he could continue searing a direct path. "Let me…please," he whispered when he reached his waist. "Say yes."

"Yes." When the aggressive mouth roaming his body suckled his right hip, Nick pleaded, "Stop for a sec."

"What's wrong?" Greg queried while poised directly above his intended target.

"I…" The sight of his lover's succulent lips perched precariously above his hyper-aroused body evaporated his thoughts.

"Why did you ask me to stop?"

"Uh…" Gripping his head, Nick fought to retrieve his thought. "I wanted to say that I'm not sure I can return the favor, so if that's not okay with you…"

"It's fine with me," Greg murmured, intentionally breathing hot air over the object of his desire. "But if it's a problem for you, I'll stop." While waiting for an answer, he decided to boldly explore the most sensitive inches of Nick's body with his mouth.

"I…" Just when he thought his mind couldn't be blown any further than it already had been that day, Nick realized it could.

His wide eyes innocently peering over Nick's arousal, Greg quietly asked, "So, what's the verdict? Would you like me to stop?" When he saw a frantic head shake, he grinned, "That's what I figured."

"I'll warn you when…."

"All you have to do is sit back and relax," Greg stated through a smile.

Gasping for air, Nick stared at the stars and grappled yet again with the irony of something supposedly so wrong feeling devastatingly right. "That's," always one to enjoy the great outdoors and oral gratification, it was the ideal pleasure merger, "…so good." No one had ever done the deed with more zeal and skill than the man nestled between his thighs. "That's perfect," he whimpered while becoming increasingly verbally incapacitated. Opening his eyes, he enjoyed the view and the knowledge that the guy rocking his world loved him and wanted to be with him forever. Just last week he was lonely and living a lie and now he was in love and experiencing pure bliss. "Yessss." Weaving his fingers through the floppy mane before him, his lids fluttered shut. "G…" Moaning in delight, he sent a clear message that he was enjoying the thrill and the man providing it. "So close," he groaned out of habit shortly before seeing stars.

Knowing he had just given Nick another very compelling reason to keep him around for the rest of his life, Greg cracked a glorious grin and lunged for his beer. "Thanks for holding that for me."

Watching his partner take a hefty swig and wipe his mouth, the Texan panted, "In case I wasn't clear when I gave you the bracelet…it means I want to spend every damn day of my life with you going forward. Fuck it if we can't get married, we'll pick a date and do something special. Hell, we can exchange rings on the beach at sunset while your mother declares us husband and husband for all I care. Anything that means we're plannin' on it lastin' forever."

"Wow." Setting down his bottle, Greg chuckled, "I guess we know what Yoko was doing right before 'Rick drove her to the chapel."

Mutual riotous laughter shook the boat.

"C'mere." Nick pulled his lover onto the cushions, kissing him fiercely as they exchanged positions. "Any advice?" he nervously asked while furiously working open Greg's belt.

"In the fifty-two seconds I predict it will take, I really doubt you can go wrong, but…" After a shared laugh Greg softly said, "Just give whatever you like to receive. That part's simple, it's the end that takes some getting used to; it did for me anyway. I'll warn you and feel free to bail."

"Why the hell do you wear button flys, G?!" Nick huffed. "It takes too friggin' long to get you out of them when I'm horny."

"Hetero perk number one…chicks wear skirts."

"Yeah, and the sluts I dated didn't wear panties under 'em."

"Ah!" Greg lifted his bare butt as soon as it hit the frigid cushion.

"I told you that vinyl was cold!"

"It's okay." Reaching out, Greg ran his fingers through Nick's wind blown hair and changed to a lusty tone. "I'm sure you'll warm me up real fast."

Just like that, the nerves were back. "Uh…"

"Fifty-two seconds, Cletus. I'll close my eyes, that'll take some of the pressure off." Smirking, Greg relaxed against the cushions and shut his lids. "My first time, I pretended I was doing it to myself." After waiting for what felt like an eternity, he felt the tiniest butterfly kiss brush over the most sensitive square inch of his body and gasped, "Make that thirty-two seconds."

Twenty-seven seconds later, Greg was panting and handing Nick his beer bottle.

After polishing off the rest of the Corona, Nick laughed, "I feel **really** bad for givin' girls shit about not wantin' to finish. That last part's a little harder than I thought. How was I? Be honest."

"It's an art form, and just like Michelangelo didn't paint the Sistine Chapel on his first day holding a brush…"

"That bad huh," Nick had to laugh at himself.

"Not at all." With a silly smile on his face, Greg joked, "You were definitely unsure of yourself and you got a little choked up at the end, but you definitely accomplished what you set out to do. You just need some more practice, the more the better. How does thirty minutes from now sound?" He pulled his lover close, murmuring, "All kidding aside…thank you, it was fantastic, because I know that was a huge step outside your comfort zone."

"Yeah." Nick pecked his grateful lover's lips. "But it was my pleasure and I'm definitely looking forward to workin' on my technique…just not in thirty minutes."

"That was a joke." During an Eskimo kiss, Greg whispered, "Are you getting sleepy?"

"Yeah."

"Me too."

"Come on." Nick tugged Greg to his feet and waited for him to fix his clothes. "Let's go to bed. We have another great day together to look forward to tomorrow."

"Mmmm," Greg took his hand. "I like the sound of that."

* * *

"You were terrific, honey," Gil teased as he watched his flushed lover extract dollar bills from her thong. 

"Anything to put a smile on a wounded guy's face."

"You're a regular USO girl."

"And you're a big tipper." Shaking her head, Sara pulled a ten from her cleavage. "I can't believe I just did that."

"Give me your bracelet."

"Why?"

He held up a pair of tweezers. "I was going to remove my pubic hair from it."

"Really?" Sara burst out laughing. "But I was hoping to keep it there to commemorate this wonderful romantic night."

"I'm sorry it's not going well."

Dipping a strawberry in whipped cream, Sara quieted her laughter. "It's going great actually. All the stress from earlier today is gone." She dangled the berry. "What about you?"

"What doesn't kill me, makes me stronger, and so far sex with you has only maimed me." He happily allowed her to feed him the fruit and cream. "Mmmm."

"Are they good?" When he nodded, she teased, "Since they caused you to lose out on a good time and some blood, they should at least be delicious." Dipping her finger in the cream, she brought it to her lover's mouth. "Think you're still up for a little fun if I avoid your sensitive area?"

"But if you avoid my sensitive area, I won't have any fun." He snickered, "Oh! You meant my wound. Mmmm," he smacked his lips after enjoying the cream on her finger. "Yes, I'm up for it." He wiggled his brows. "Can't you tell?"

"Yes, I can." Grabbing the bowl of whipped topping, she strolled over to the bed. "By the way, I didn't order this to use with the strawberries, I'm using it on you."

"Ooh." Like an excited little boy, Gil slid onto the mattress. "I like the sound of this."

* * *

"Cold?" Nick asked when he saw Greg rubbing his hands together. 

"I'll be okay once I'm under the covers with you."

"Do you…" Nick reached for the chiming cell phone on the nightstand. "It's your mom according to the caller ID."

Still drunk, the smart ass son snatched the cell, put it on speaker and answered, "I'm sorry, Greg is too busy making hot monkey love with Nick to come to the phone right now, but if you leave a message, he'll call you back as soon as he crawls out from under his sexy cowboy, peels the liquid latex off his body, and pulls his favorite pair of purple love beads from his butt."

"Sweetheart!" Jan giggled and joked with her boy, "Nicky is supposed to pull the beads from your butt, not you. That's what makes using them fun. Jeeeeez, I'm tired of teaching you everything, didn't you read the gay guide book I left on the book shelf above the bed?"

Nick hurried to find it.

Watching his partner hold up the oversized DK Ultimate Gay Sex book, Greg laughed as he crashed onto the bed. "Jan, why are you calling me on my honeymoon?"

Flipping open the text, Nick gasped, "Holy shit, this thing is full of pictures."

"You got married?!" the frantic mother shrilled. "Without me there?! How could you, Gregory?!"

"Breathe, Jan, breathe." Greg ended her panic, "I'm kidding." Holding up his wrist he admired his bracelet once more. "But I did get engaged."

"Really?"

"Really." Speaking as if Nick wasn't there, Greg spoke in a dreamy voice, "He slipped a shell-fragment bracelet on my wrist and popped the question." Exchanging ecstatic grins with his partner, he said, "It only cost ten bucks, but to me, it's priceless, just like him. I'm supposed to be using this time to seriously consider if I can spend the rest of my life with him, but I already know the answer is yes. It's the real deal, Mom, just like you and dad. And I know we'll make it, because it's like you said at dinner the other night, we're already best friends and compatible roommates, the only thing we had to find out was whether or not we enjoyed getting physical and believe me, we've been proving that for the past forty-eight hours."

"Aww." Jan sniffled into the phone. "Your father will be so happy to hear he's getting the jock son he always wanted."

"Why did you call, Mom?"

"Oh! I wanted to know what time to expect you boys on Saturday."

"Probably about three." Greg's suspicions grew. "Wait…you're not planning anything funky are you?"

"No, not at all. Your father and I were invited to a PFLAG luncheon that day and wanted to make sure we were back in time."

"Dad went to the PFLAG meeting with you?" Greg said in surprise.

"Yes, he had a wonderful time with the other fathers there. He's playing golf with three of them on Friday."

"That's so cool. Tell him thanks for me."

Knowing his father wouldn't be caught dead at a PFLAG meeting Nick mouthed the word 'lucky'.

"Hey, I have to run, okay. I'll call you tomorrow, Mom. I love you."

"I love you too, Greg. Good night."

After turning off the cell phone, Greg slid over to Nick. "You heard what Pete said earlier. He never thought his mother would come around, but she did and now she visits him every summer."

"Yeah." Nick forced a smile. "I don't want to get bummed out thinkin' about all that before bed, okay?"

"Okay." Greg snuggled up close to read the book along with his lover. "Whatcha reading about?"

"Relationships. It says when a relationship first begins it's totally normal to be obsessed with foolin' around with your new partner to the point where it feels like you never leave the bedroom. That guys are obsessed with sex to begin with, thinkin' about it ten times an hour on average, so when you get a new partner, it's natural for a guy to want to want to be with him all the time and think about it twenty times an hour. That's a huge relief," Nick laughed, "because it's all I can think about and I thought I had a problem. Comin' back here on the dinghy I wanted to throw the guy drivin' the boat overboard so I could pounce on you. Seriously, we just finished not thirty minutes ago and I'm sittin' here hopin' you changed your mind about goin' to sleep."

"Consider it changed, cowboy." To confirm his interest, Greg grabbed the book and quickly flipped through its pages. "Ooh, wanna try that?" He pointed to the color picture. "What do you think?"

"Oh, yeah, that'll do just fine," Nick excitedly answered before covering his lover's mouth with his and tumbling their bodies. "I can't believe we only have a couple of days left."

"We'll make the most of it." Greg gasped when he felt a cold hand dip under the waistband of his boxers. "Jeeeeez, to think you wouldn't even touch me three days ago."

"Mmmm, let's not leave the boat tomorrow," Nick suggested while tugging off his lover's boxers. "We've got plenty of food and beer. We can watch movies during recovery periods."

"My dad's Levitra is in the medicine cabinet, if we take some of that, we won't have down times."

"Ha!" Nick pondered the possibility. "How about we try that tomorrow after a good night's sleep."

"You're on." Greg loved the playfulness. "Hey, we don't actually have to leave until about two on Friday to make our spa appointments, so that gives us about a day and a half on the boat."

Thrilled by the news, Nick pressed their heating bodies together. "Perfect."

* * *

"That was a little messier than I imagined," remarked Sara as she tried to run her fingers through her tangled tacky hair. "Really sticky and kind of gross after it dries up." She tapped her face and her fingers stuck for a second. "Really not as fun as I thought. They make it look so hot and glamorous on TV or in the movies, but really it's just…a little nasty. Don't you think?" She sniffed. "I need to get in the shower, I'm starting to smell like sour milk. Yuck." She glanced around. "It's all over the sheets too. We'll have to call housekeeping for fresh ones. What a pain." She sighed, "So not worth it, huh?" 

"Did you say something, honey?" Staring at the ceiling with a smirk of satisfaction on his face, Gil sighed, "Sorry, I'm a little out of it, because that was so…perfect."

**

* * *

****ANs:**

**Thanks,  
Maggs**


	31. Chapter 31: How Far We've Come

**Where You Are  
****Written By: Ms. Maggs / Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 31: How Far We've Come…**

Sitting in bed with a laptop between them, Gil and Sara perused the dogs available for adoption from the Project Home Sweet Home, a no-kill animal shelter in Long Beach. One of the hotel employees who volunteered there had recommended it upon overhearing them discuss dog adoption at lunch the previous day.

"Look at him." Sara pointed to a pouting boxer on the screen. "He's a big adorable dope. I can easily picture him following you around the house and laying at your feet while you lose yourself in your office for hours."

Gil lifted his eyes from the screen. "Thanks, I think."

"What?"

"Why would I be a perfect match with a big dopey dog?" he half-laughed.

Sara didn't miss a beat. "Because a smart dog would feel threatened by your brilliance of course."

Gil rolled his eyes. "Nice cover."

"I certainly can't picture us with a yappy little dog who never stops running around the house, can you?"

"Hardly." He returned his gaze to the screen. "It says his previous owner gave him up when he moved out of town."

"I know just how poor Bruno there feels," Sara sighed.

After watching his loved one stare at the dog's wide, sad eyes for a moment, Gil reached for his cell. "It says they open at eight and it's ten after."

Sara's face lit. "You're calling about him?"

He nodded as the shelter worker answered. "Hello, my name is Gil Grissom, I was referred to your organization by Mindy Millwater. I'm on your website looking at a photo of a boxer named Bruno and was wondering if he's still there?"

When Sara saw her man nod, her spirits soared.

"Can we come in and see him this morning? See if he's a good match?" Gil nodded to let Sara know the answer was yes. "About nine-thirty then. Thank you." He clicked the phone shut. "They'll have him bathed and ready to say hello when we get there. She's also prepping a few other similar dogs just in case we don't hit it off with Bruno."

"I have a gut feeling we will."

Gil glanced at the screen. "Me too. I feel like I already know him from another life."

"Thank you." Sara tackled her man against the bedding and straddled his hips. "Would you like me to show my appreciation?" she half-joked.

"I'll consider the offer. Yes." He pulled her close and rolled their bodies.

"Watch the laptop."

"I can afford a new one," he growled while shedding his pajama bottoms in haste.

"Afraid I'm going to change my mind if you hesitate?" she teased while wrapping her long legs around his back.

"Busted." Gil confessed as he merged their bodies. "Mmmm." He pulled in a jagged breath. "I should have offered to buy you a dog the first day you got here." Rubbing their noses together, he talked himself out of finishing in record time. "I love you, Sara."

"I love you too, and not just because you're buying me an undividable dog or because you gave me a pubic-hair remover…I mean bracelet." After a shared laugh, she finished her sentiment. "I love you because you love me and no one has ever done that before, at least not well anyway. Thank you for loving me."

"Thank you for loving me and my roaches, no one has ever managed to do both." His heart pounded in his chest as he sprinkled kisses on every part of Sara's body he could reach. A few minutes later he realized she was lost in thought, instead of passion. "You're thinking about the dog and not the loving, aren't you?"

Her lips sliding into a smile, she nodded. "Sorry. I've wanted a dog for so long, I can't help it. But don't rush, take your time, it feels good, I'm just preoccupied and you don't need to worry about me finishing."

"Sara…" He chuckled, "Men only take their time to satisfy the woman they're with. Pull the woman out of the equation and we race to the finish line, so we can regroup and get ready to do it again."

"Oh. Thanks for the candid lesson on male sexuality," she laughed. "I feel honored that you shared one of the club secrets. I guess I know how Nick and Greg have been spending their vacation time since they don't have a woman's needs to worry about."

"People think gay men are perverts because they have sex all the time, but the truth is **all** men would have sex all the time if women's libidos were up to the task. If hetero guys could go to a bath house full of hot women who would do anything they wanted with no strings attached, society would grind to a halt because men would be there, instead of work. That's why I always find disgust for those places amusing. We'd all dabble if society gave us permission to go…until of course we found the person we wanted to spend the rest of our lives loving, then there would be no point."

"Nice cover."

"Mmmm, I thought so too." Wrapping his hand around Sara's wrists he gently pressed them to the mattress. "Dress us up, teach us to read, but at the end of the day…we're still animals, and all creatures great and small have the same primal urges." He deepened his stroke. "The same base needs." He lowered his voice. "The same primitive call of the wild rings in our ears when we see the object of our desire."

"I'm uh…" She cleared her throat. "Officially turned on."

"Not thinking about the dog anymore?"

"Wh…what dog?" she joked while digging her short nails into her lover's back. "We're getting a dog?"

"Yes," he growled in her ear.

Closing her eyes, Sara purred, "The dog can wait."

* * *

When Greg felt a moist pair of lips dropping kisses on his bare shoulder, he stirred from slumber. 

"Hey there, Sleepin' Beauty," Nick teased while spooning him. "It's time to wake up."

"That feels nice." Although his partner was a tough guy on the job, he was a teddy bear when it came to snuggling, and in a matter of days, Greg had grown completely addicted to his affection. "Mmmm." He kept his eyelids shut and savored the slow, wet smooches and tender caresses. "Don't stop."

"Just for few minutes, because you have to get up."

"What time is it?"

"Nine. I've been awake for almost an hour. I tidied up real good, put away the dishes, cleaned the counters, and stowed all the linens we washed at the Laundromat yesterday." He sweetly chuckled directly into his lover's ear, "Your parents will never know how hard we partied."

"Are you kidding? We've probably been on a WebCam this whole time."

"Do you know you have me so paranoid, I actually checked out that vintage stuffed Shamu on the shelf for a hidden camera."

"My daddy bought me that when I was six."

"Aww."

"Speaking of my dad…he'll know how hard we partied when he realizes we swiped the last of his Levitra." Greg grinned while trying to force his eyes open. "I'll need to tell him, because it would suck for him to find an empty bottle when he needed it most…or when my mom needed him most, I guess is more accurate."

"Yeah."

"Mmmm…I could sleep all day."

"I know, but you gotta get up." Nick began vigorously caressing Greg's body. "You said you wanted to leave by ten-thirty, remember? Your parents are expectin' us."

"At **three**." With his eyes still shut, the groggy man flipped onto his back and snickered, "Just admit this a booty call, Cletus."

Grinning, Nick blanketed his partner's body with his. "This is your booty call wake up call." He carefully aligned their bodies. "Rise and shine, baby."

"With you grinding into me like that, rising is imminent."

"Yep, that's my plan."

When Greg finally opened his weary eyes he was treated to Nick's sunniest smile. "Good morning." It was exactly the way he wanted to wake every day for the rest of his life.

"Mornin', G." After a flirty kiss, Nick sighed, "It's our last day in paradise."

"Nah, every day with me is gonna be paradise, you'll see." Greg cracked a huge grin. "I'm feeling extra sappy this morning apparently."

"Me too. Probably 'cause we had such a great day yesterday with the romantic dinner and the couples massage."

Greg rolled his eyes. "The couples massage that we didn't know was a couples massage thanks to my smart ass mother." Jan had secretly reserved the 'romance spa package' for them, which included a side-by-side candlelit treatment and private time in the Deluxe Champagne and Chocolate Relaxation Room where they were told it was okay to 'really unwind' because no one would be back for an hour.

"I still can't believe I went with the flow at that spa." All the female employees had fawned over 'the hot gay couple' doing the romance package. "It really didn't bother me." In between kisses, Nick shared, "And today I woke up with this great sense of calm about everything. I almost got up the nerve to call and come out to my sister Gwen, but I chickened out at the last minute." He tapped their noses together. "I made you breakfast instead."

"Oh yeah?" Greg playfully asked while gripping the strong shoulders he loved to have looming over him. "Did you make me something yummy?"

"MmmHmm." Feeling the body below his coming alive, Nick said, "Thankfully I had the foresight to make somethin' that'll keep." While praying the answer would be yes, he softly asked, "Are you up for makin' love this mornin'?" He didn't want to push him, but it had been about thirty-five and half hours (not that he was counting) and he thought he might be ready for another round.

"Yeah, I was really hoping to fit in our third time before we left." Greg snickered, "Because it'll give us a lot more to discuss with my mother at dinner."

"I sure hope you're jokin'." Shaking his head, Nick rolled off his lover's body and opened the nightstand drawer. "Do you want…"

"Wait."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Greg sheepishly said, "I just need to um… I just want to uh…just give me about five minutes, okay?"

"Look at you, you're real cute when you're shy," Nick teased, "and you almost never are, Mr. Uninhibited who walks around naked and talks to his mommy about sex."

After laughing with his mate, he playfully asked, "How much do you love me, Cletus?"

"With all my heart," The enamored man answered without hesitation. "That's the one piece ofinformation about our love life that you can share with your mom." He changed to his most authentic twang to joke, "You know, I think I'm gonna do things real proper like when we get to Santa Gabriel later. I'm gonna tell your daddy I'm crazy about you and ask for your hand."

"What if he says you can't have me?"

"Then I'll have to use my redneck shotgun to change his mind." The Texan winked, "Now mosey along and powder your nose, pardner, because suddenly I want it more than ever."

"You want **my nose**?" Greg laughed as he jumped from the bed. "Eww. A nose fetish? That's kinda nasty. I don't know if I can roll with that."

"I don't want your nose, I want your cute little ass, which I'm gonna smack when it gets back here, because you're always pickin' on me!"

From the bathroom Greg yelled, "What's that? You want to watch me picking my nose? **Freak!**"

"Smart ass," Nick mumbled as he tossed supplies on the bed. When he thought back to their first time and how nervous he had been, it seemed a lifetime ago, not four days. Their second and far less nerve-wracking time had been Thursday night, so this would be their third, and he fully expected it to be a charm. In between making love, they had grown infinitely closer by exploring each other's bodies in a variety of ways. They worked through the pages of their guide book, which had become a great running joke between them, producing such phrases as 'Let's Page 120 until dinner's ready' or 'I could really go for some Page 114 right about now'. In the last forty-eight hours they had experienced outstanding passion, as well as some awkward moments and hysterical bloopers. Thankfully they both took the blunders in stride, able to laugh at themselves and each other, rather than feel self-conscious or embarrassed.

In record time, Nick had gone from not being able to touch a man, to craving every inch of the one he adored. It helped that his loving partner had made every minute, even the awkward ones, comfortable and fun. Intimacy with Greg was a world apart from his experiences with women, which had been fraught with performance pressure, outrageous bravado, and feigned emotions. He was thrilled that his fake love life had been replaced by something too wonderful to accurately describe with words, and he was ecstatic to have a future with a loving, adventurous man who made him feel incredibly safe and highly desirable.

Relaxing against the pillows, he breathed in Greg's familiar scent and savored the peace that commitment and monogamy were bringing him. He loved having someone to hold as he drifted off to sleep and he slept well knowing that his companion would be around when he woke. Just like him, Greg would wake grateful to be alive and together, thankful that their lives hadn't ended before they got to this beautiful part. They had so much in common, but it was their outlook on life being too short and their mutual desire to cherish each day left, that would always keep their priorities straight and their happiness maximized

For a guy raised under a serious roof, the silliness was a nice change of pace too. Life with Greg was never dull and Nick was valuing his goofiness and unconventionality a little more every day. Like his zany conversations with Jan, his perpetual sneaking of dessert before meals, and his penchant for nudity even at inappropriate times like dinner. The conservatively raised Texan was covered in figurative bruises from being pushed outside the box all week. Greg knew just how to shove him right…not too much or too fast, and never far enough to make him lose himself completely. There were times he had to say no, like when Greg challenged him to go without clothes all day Thursday. He insisted on wearing underwear at the kitchen table and he always sat on a towel in the living room.

While enjoying the gentle rocking of the boat, Nick prayed to God, who he truly believed still loved him, asking for only one thing…that the relationship he had come to value more than his own life would hold together after returning to Vegas.

"Penny for your thoughts," Greg said when he slipped into bed next to his daydreaming man. "You looked a million miles away just now."

"Get over here, Spanky." Nick flipped his smart ass partner onto his stomach and carried out the punishment he had promised.

"Hey, don't stop at two," Greg laughed. "I like it and I've been a very naughty boy."

"It's ridiculous, but the smell of your Irish Spring soap drives me wild."

The scientist teased in his best Leprechaun voice, "B'gosh and b'gorrah of course it does, lad, that smell means you're gonna get lucky. It's Pavlovian Conditioning at its finest. I keep cleaning up with Irish Spring right before we fool around, so now you associate the scent with the pleasure that follows. Going forward, you'll probably get a hard on walking down the soap aisle in the grocery store."

Nick flashed a brilliant smile. "You're probably right."

"Hey." Greg rolled onto his back. "Let's try it like this." He tugged Nick on top of him. "I want to look into your eyes and feel the love." He chuckled, "Alright, I'll be honest, I also want to enjoy the view and watch your muscles flex, jocko."

"I certainly don't have a problem with you enjoyin' the view, but…" Nick brushed the rest of his words over his lover's radiant smile, "The book said it can be uncomfortable like this until you're more used to it. I don't know what I'm doin' either, I could hurt you."

"You're such a perfectionist, Cletus. Don't worry about it doing it well, just do it." Reaching for the bottle, Greg sweetly assured his thoughtful partner, "I'll tell you if it's too much."

Once again, Nick let himself be thrust outside his comfort zone. "Okay." He placed a single juicy kiss in the center of his partner's chest to kick off the foreplay and by the time he reached his lover's belly button, he was raring to go.

"Ahhh, I'm so ticklish right there." As his breathing quickened, Greg busied his own hands about Nick's body, racing his fingers through his hair and caressing his biceps and back. In between muffled gasps, he reminded himself to relax and after a couple of minutes, he confidently reached for the condom he saw poised on a bed pillow.

"You're rushin'"

"I'm good." Greg tore open the packet with flair. "All that fooling around we've been doing has helped me learn how to relax quickly." He tossed the empty wrapper and threw his feet up onto his lover's shoulders. "Is this comfortable for you?"

"Yeah, but I can't believe you're comfortable like this."

"I'm extremely limber. It's genetic. In Norway my people were circus contortionists."

"Bullshit."

"It's all true! Come here," Grinning, Greg lunged for a kiss.

"You're crazy, you know that?"

"About you, yeah." Greg relaxed against the sheets, "Come on, make love to me, Cletus. Don't make me beg."

Eyes locked, fingers dug into each other's flesh, the world around them soon melted away and it didn't resurface until they were finished and gasping ten minutes later.

"That position's a keeper," Greg blurted while holding his head.

"No shit," Nick laughed once his power of speech was restored. "That was just like I always thought sex should be when I was with a woman, but never was. You know, lookin' in each others eyes and feelin' that buildin' intensity while we paw at each other. Watchin' the ecstasy grabbin' us and pushin' us over the edge while we panted and growled in each other's faces like animals."

"Wow, maybe you should write trashy romance novels in your spare time. You just got me revved up for Round 2."

Nick pulled way laughing, "Sorry, we polished off the Levitra, remember?"

"That's what I get for falling for an old geezer," Greg teased. A second later, a towel landed on his face and he laughed harder. "I'm having too much fun to go home! Let's quit LVPD and do the Mexico retirement thing. Will catch fish for dinner and drink tequila for breakfast. What do you say, Cletus?"

"I say no," Nick replied with a wink when he moved the towel. Sliding it over his grinning lover's chest with care he abruptly turned serious, "I don't want to run. I want to return to Vegas and face my demons, all of them. With you by my side I know I can do it. After I get my job back and am on my feet for a while, I want you to come to Dallas with me." He rolled the used towel in his hands while breathing deep. "I'll tell my parents with you there and let the chips fall where they may." Their locked eyes, he shared, "I'm done apologizing for the way God made me. If my family has a problem with it, so be it. You're the most important member of my family now, G."

Realizing that his wishes for Nick had come true, that he would be returning home relaxed and ready to deal with his issues, Greg filled with pride. "That's…I'm really impressed and touched by what you said."

"Thanks, but…" The changed man initiated a tender kiss before finishing his thought. "I owe it all to you."

"Hey…" Greg propped up on his elbows and injected some humor. "Before we face your Vegas and Dallas demons, we have to face the she-devil in Santa Gabriel. Who knows what my mother has in store for us this afternoon."

Heading for the shower, Nick groaned, "I can't wait."

* * *

While waiting to meet Bruno in the small lobby of Project Home Sweet Home, Sara studied the adoption photos on the wall. "They've had 211 successful placements since they opened." 

Standing behind his anxious mate, Gil placed his hands on her shoulders and confidently said, "They'll hit 212 today." Seeing the excitement in Sara's eyes, he couldn't imagine leaving without a dog.

"Here's Bruno!" Karen Malloy, the forty-seven year old adoption coordinator/dog lover announced while walking the lovable Boxer into the room. "Can you believe someone would give this sweetheart away?" She knelt down at eye level. "Who's a big sweet boy? Are you a big sweet boy?"

The dog responded with a loud, smelly fart.

"Brunnnno," Kacie sighed, "we had a long talk about flatulence turning off prospective parents, didn't we?" She glanced up. "He only does it when he's nervous." She tried not to choke on the fumes. "I think it's kind of sweet, don't you?"

Just as Gil was about to say 'next', the love of his life rushed to the intestinally-challenged dog's side with open arms.

"We'll take him!" Sara knelt down to scratch the pup's head. "I know it's hard putting on a show every time you're told prospective parents are coming." Gazing into his big brown eyes, she nodded, "Gives a kid an ulcer after a while, huh? Yeah."

Reaching for his wallet, Gil asked, "Do you take Visa?"

"We sure do." Karen walked to the counter. "You already filled out all the forms online and I didn't see any problems, so we'll get you processed in no time."

"Great." He walked over and crouched beside Sara and Bruno. "A match made in heaven."

"Is that your stealthy way of saying I have a gas problem?"

"No comment." Gil laughed and scratched the pooch's head. "A four hour drive with a hyper-flatulent dog. The things I do for love."

Bruno responded with a tortuously long fart that had Sara covering her nose. "Good thing we're used to dealing with bad smells in tight places."

* * *

"Dude!" Sitting in the passenger seat of Nick's truck, Greg waved his hand in front of his nose. "What's with the farting? You ate the same stuff I did, and…" 

"Sorry." Nick's cheeks flushed. "I'm nervous about going to your parents' house and sometimes when I'm nervous, I get gas."

"Is **that** why your coffin exploded?"

"That's so not funny," Nick replied before laughing. "Okay, yeah, it is."

"Good thing it's a short drive." While clamping his nose with his fingers, Greg said in a nasally voice, "Don't sweat it, okay. My dad told me he asked Jan to ease up."

"Yeah, but does she listen to your father? Stop pluggin' your nose! You're a CSI, you're not supposed to be bothered by strong odors!"

Laughing, Greg released his nose as ordered. "My mom wants things to work out between us, so she won't do anything to piss you off. If she's on your nerves, just say 'I don't know if I can fit into this wacky family' and she'll back off."

"Good to know."

Greg held up his left arm and wiggled his wrist. "But I know you won't break our engagement no matter how much she embarrasses you, because you lovvvvve me, Cletus. You love my witty personality, my unconventional good looks, my listening and counseling skills, my gourmet cooking, and most of all…" He smacked his left cheek. "You love my tight little ass."

"True, very true," Nick kept a straight face, "but I'd also include your willingness to drop to your knees and rock my world twice a day. That's a biggie."

"You do realize that was me in vacation mode, right?" Greg said with notable concern in his voice. "As much as I enjoy rocking your world, after pulling double shifts..."

"I was kiddin', G, I really didn't think we'd keep up our four orgasms a day pace once we were back to reality." Nick winked at his lover, "I think once a day is doable though, don't you? Except for really exhausting work days, of course."

"Definitely." Greg flicked the mirror closed. "But on days off, we should aim for two."

"Sounds good to me." Nodding in agreement, Nick said, "We need to sit down with Griss and work out a plan to have the maximum number of days off together."

"Too bad Grissom opposed the twelve hour shifts/weekends off plan that Ecklie suggested last year. He wanted to convert the Swing staff to weekend staff and augment with interns. I thought it was a great idea."

"Only Griss would oppose Saturday nights off." Nick grumbled, "Just like he doesn't do the team vacation break like Days and Swing, but we have to cover for them when they take advantage twice a year. That sucks. When those guys return after not seeing each other or the place for a week, they're totally refreshed."

"Maybe now that he's living with Sara he'll change his mind. They're going to want to take a vacation together at some point and it'll look real obvious if they're always taking the same weeks off. Putting Grave in the vacation rotation would guarantee them a week twice a year."

"We should have Sara convince him."

"Yeah," Greg laughed. "Maybe she can threaten to withhold BJs."

"Don't make me think of Sara on her knees with Grissom, that's just…" Nick shivered. "It's just gross, like thinkin' of parents doin' it."

* * *

"How much longer, Daddy?" Sara asked in Bruno's voice. Sitting next to the frequent-farter in the back seat, she was certain she'd pass out from the fumes. 

"Would you like to trade places?"

"No, I'm good." She scratched the snoozing dog's head. "He's finally starting to relax."

"Good. We're twenty minutes from the house," Gil laughed. "I just realized we don't have any supplies for him. All we have is his leash and collar. We need dishes, food, treats, a lot of things."

"There's a Petsmart at that strip mall on Dodson. You're allowed to bring your dog with you while you shop, so we don't have to worry about him sitting in a hot car." She gave Bruno a vigorous scratch. "If we have him with us, he can pick out his own toys."

"But my roaches can't sit in the hot car."

"You can bring the jar in and put it in our cart."

"Okay, I suppose we could do that." Gil signaled to turn left. "Petsmart first, then home."

* * *

"Here we are!" Greg pointed straight ahead. "The English Tudor home in the middle of the cul-de-sac." 

"Wow! That's a really cool house, G." It was probably average for this Southern California neighborhood, but the architecture and the grounds were extraordinary. "Jenni's going to be in for a real shock living here after living in her old neighborhood, huh?"

"No kidding. The house is only 3300 square feet, but it sits on a prime acre. The backyard is amazing. It was built in 1935 and my mom totally redecorated when they bought it. Just pull in the driveway next to my mom's car."

"What is that?"

"An electric red BMW Z4 Roadster Convertible. You should see her zipping around town, it's a trip. She gets a speeding ticket every six months like clockwork. She's been to Traffic School enough times to teach the class."

"My mom drives a white Volvo sedan and will proudly tell you that she's never had a moving violation in her entire life."

When Greg saw his mother appear on the front lawn with her video camera, he sighed, "We're already being filmed."

"What doesn't kill me makes me stronger," Nick confirmed as he parked the truck. "I survived bein' buried alive, I'll survive this." When he saw the writing on Mrs. Sanders t-shirt said 'Proud PFLAG Parent. - I love my gay son and you should too!' he took a steadying breath.

"Hey, Mom." Knowing the drill, Greg shut the truck door and walked forward waving to the camera. "Where's Dad?"

"He's putting on his new t-shirt."

"Hi, Jan." Nick smiled for the camera. "Thanks for havin' my truck waitin' for us at the dock."

"Anything for the man who loves my little boy!"

Nick cringed from the pedophilic sound of the statement.

"Get closer you two!" Jan directed! "Arms around each other and big smiles." As they complied, she squealed with excitement. "Now wave to the camera." Speaking clearly she narrated, "This is a very special day for the Sanders clan. Greg is bringing his fiancé Nick Stokes home for the first time. Kiss for the camera, boys! But no tongue, just a regular one, I want it G-rated."

Greg spoke through his plastered smile, "I promise to reward you for humoring her, Cletus."

"Are they here?" Dave raced to the front lawn wearing his custom made 'I'm getting a Jock-Son-in-Law for Christmas' t-shirt.

"Did you lose a bet, Dad?" Greg asked upon seeing the shirt.

"I most certainly did, son." Dave walked over and dropped his arm around the jock's shoulders. "Hi, Nick." He strengthened the squeeze. "Welcome to our home and the family."

"Thanks, Dave. I appreciate the sentiment." Nick breathed through his intense discomfort. "I'll be lucky if my parents let me stand on their lawn after I tell them, so this is real nice." _Extremely annoying and uncomfortable, but nice._

Jan pressed the pause button to give her next direction, "Start walking toward the house holding hands, glancing at one another from time to time."

"Okay, Spielberg," Greg joked while grabbing his fiancé's hand. "Would you like us to really queen it up by frolicking and skipping too? Or are you going for a more masculine gay romance vibe? What's my motivation?"

"Don't be a smart ass," the impatient mother droned. "You'll thank me for this when you're showing it to your children one day." She hurried to the front door so she could capture them entering.

"We're having kids, G?" Nick joked. "When were you plannin' on tellin' me?"

"Hey, it's news to me too." Greg asked, "Do you want to use my sperm or yours? Or should we do the sperm cocktail and never find out who's the daddy?"

"That won't be necessary, boys." Dave patted the good sports on the back. "We have eight Cambodian orphans in the backyard, you can pick as many as you'd like. No pressure, but Jan has her heart set on two girls."

"Oh, Lord." Nick released his tension in a laugh. "You know what, why bother fightin' the fight. Hey, how's this, Jan?!" He swept Greg off his feet and into his arms. "Is this romantic enough for ya?"

"I love it!" the giddy mother squealed with delight.

"I do too." Greg stole a kiss, replete with illegal tongue action.

"Gregory!" Jan scolded. "Would you please keep it G-rated for my Cambodian grandchildren!"

"The neighbors are watching," Dave sighed. He crossed the lawn to speak to the nosiest one, "It's a big day, Mrs. Wilson!" He knew the woman already thought they were a family of lunatics, ever since his crazy Norwegian mother-in-law used to dance on the front lawn in her nightgown when the moon was full and dress up like a troll on Halloween. "We're celebrating because Greg got engaged to a very respectable young man. He brought him here for a visit. You know Jan and her video camera."

"Celebrating your son's queerness on the front lawn for the world to see?" The elderly woman shook her head. "I always said you people were a bunch of nuts."

Dave calmly replied, "No, we're a bunch of **fruits and nuts**, thank you very much." After laughing at the old bat's reaction, he headed for the house. "Don't start picking grandkids without me!"

* * *

**ANs:**

Since it's canon that GS have a boxer, I kept it the same, opting to use Bruno since that is the name of William Petersen's dog who played the part on the show.

**Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts with me!**

**Maggs **


	32. Chapter 32: We've Only Just Begun

**AN: **This website does not allow song lyrics to be included, so at the end of the chapter when the scene breaks are divided by '--' it's in lieu of real-time scene being divided by song lyrics as the chapter was originally written.

**Where You Are  
****Written By: Ms. Maggs / Edited By: KJT**

**Chapter 32: We've Only Just Begun**

With his jar of prize winning cockroaches in the baby seat of his Petsmart shopping cart, Gil proudly strolled the aisles next to Sara who was walking Bruno on his new leash. "Dog Food, right here."

"Wow, there are four aisles of food," the new dog owner remarked as she stood gaping at the choices.

Gil quickly narrowed down the selection. "Whatever helps with hyper-flatulence is the kind we need to buy."

"He's just nervous." Sara crouched down to scratch her dog's head. "Adoption, a long car ride, a store full of pets…it's a lot to handle in one day." She quietly informed the pooch, "I had stomach aches my whole first week in foster care."

"Can I help you find something?" Steve, the twenty-eight year old assistant store manager queried when he saw two clueless patrons who looked like the type to spend a lot of money on their beloved pet.

"Yes, thank you." Gil handed over a list. "We just adopted this boxer and the shelter wrote down the food he's been eating, but we have a sneaking suspicion that it's not agreeing with him and would like to try something new. He has a clean bill of health from the Veterinarian, so we know it's not a medical problem."

After the dog standing next to him farted, Steve chuckled, "I see the problem; actually I smell it. The food the shelter was feeding him was very cheap stuff, which is pretty typical since those places rely on donations. They probably had to keep changing his diet based on what they had on their shelves. What you need to do, is buy some of the old stuff and some of the new, higher quality product I'll recommend and then mix it, gradually switching him completely to the new. In addition to the food switch, you'll want to invest in an elevated feeder, that helps them swallow less air when eating. You can add Acidophilus to his food as well, and the most important thing is to make sure he gets a nice light walk after dinner to help him digest the meal."

"Terrific." Gil nodded at the knowledgeable man. "We'll do everything you've said."

"Of course his mental health is important too," Steve remarked while walking the couple to the toy aisle. "You'll want to buy him a variety of play items to keep him happy and stimulated. We have several hardcover books that really help new dog owners, would you like me to pull copies for you?" He knew the geek types always loved big, expensive books.

"Yes, please." Sara nodded. "Do you have one on the Boxer breed as well?"

"I'm sure we do, but if we don't we can order for you." Steve waved the big spenders forward. "What about sleeping arrangements? Are you going to let him share your bed? Or do you plan on giving him one of his own?"

"What's wrong with the floor?" Gil queried, remembering his childhood dog being perfectly comfortable at the foot of his bed.

"Nothing, but often times newly adopted pets are used to sleeping with other dogs or in kennel cages, it can be daunting to have a huge floor as their bed when they're used to a more intimate arrangement." He pointed to the shelf. "Feel that Microfiber Orthopedic Donut Bed. It looks and feels like real suede."

"Ooh," Sara ran her hand across it. "That does feel nice."

"Yes," Steve patted the boxer on the head. "And you certainly deserve comfort after living in a scary, impersonal shelter for so long, right?"

Gil's eyes jumped open when he saw the price tag. "$150 for a pet bed?"

"That's the top of the line, but we have much cheaper versions."

"We'll take this one." Sara pulled a burgundy one from the shelf. "It matches our bedding."

"He's sleeping in the bedroom?" Gil half-joked, "My roaches don't get to sleep in the bedroom, so why does our dog?"

Steve glanced at the cart again. "I was wondering about the roaches." _But I didn't know how to broach the subject without making you people sound like freaks. _

Gil boasted, "They took first place at the National Forensics Conference in Long Beach earlier this week."

"Wow." Steve pretended to be fascinated. "That's exciting. What kind of habitat do you keep them in at home?"

"A standard 10 gallon fish tank."

"I bet they would love an upgrade. Have you ever looked at our SeaClear product line?"

Sara tapped the bed. "If your roaches get a new house, our undividable dog gets deluxe bedding."

"Undividable dog?" Steve remarked with curiosity. But before he got an answer, the boxer released a stink bomb. "Hey, have you heard of the Dogone Thong?"

"The what?" Gil and Sara chimed.

"It's an incredible odor neutralizing system for dogs with flatulence issues. It's a charcoal cloth that is fastened over the tail and with elastic straps. It covers the posterior, and when odor is released, the gassy discharge is instantly deodorized." He laughed, "I brought it home for my wife when she was pregnant, because certain foods really set her off. She wasn't amused." He waved the couple and their credit cards to follow him. "This is a good time to discuss personal hygiene products for your new family member. Right this way!"

* * *

"And this is Gregory's room," Jan stepped inside the large bedroom. While Dave was having a chat in his home office with Greg, she was giving Nick the grand tour. "I redecorated it for him when he came home to stay with us for a bit after my parents passed, but it still has a lot of his childhood and high school things." 

"He mentioned takin' a semester off to be with you. I thought that was real sweet of him."

"Yes. Yes, it was." Jan gave a somber nod. "It was a very rough time for me and he sacrificed a lot to help me cope…too much I'm afraid. If I could do it over, I wouldn't have accepted his offer. He should have stayed at school and been with his friends, but he's a very compassionate boy and he wanted to help me." Fighting off tears, she said, "I know I'm biased, but I think you're lucky to have him."

"I agree." While studying the photos on the dresser, Nick said, "Greg's helped me deal with a bunch of stuff this past week. I was at rock bottom when I showed up on his doorstep in Long Beach. I know he told you that I'm suspended for havin' a breakdown on the job. When I left town I was certain I'd never get my job back, hell, I wasn't even sure that I wanted it, but now…" He picked up the photo of six year old Greg at Sea World posing with Dave and the stuffed Shamu toy that now resided on The Freyja. "I'm goin' back to Vegas a new man thanks to Greg. I know I'll be able to work everything out with him supportin' me."

"Good for you, Nicky." Jan enjoyed watching him smile at the photos. "Would you like to see some albums?" Without waiting for an answer, she hurried to retrieve her favorites.

"Yes, ma'am, I'd love to." He returned the Shamu photo to its spot and took a seat on the edge of the bed, eager to learn more about the man he loved.

"This is his senior year of high school."

"Look at him all prepped out in that private school uniform. His ears look huge with that hair cut."

"He hated having it that short." Jan shook her head at the memory. "He was conducting an experiment one afternoon and Mr. Wizard did something wrong and singed the whole left side in a mini explosion. He was damn lucky he didn't kill himself. That boy has given me enough heart attacks in this lifetime. I really don't think I can survive one more trauma."

"I don't blame you." The intrigued boyfriend kept flipping through the photos.

"Promise me you'll look after him, Nicky."

"I'll do my best, ma'am, but he's a grown man with a very overactive imagination and a strong sense of adventure. If I found out one thing about him on this trip, it's that he's very hard to control. When he gets an idea in his head, he doesn't let go of it." A smile edged over his lips. "If I had a dollar for everything I did during this trip, that I wouldn't have done unless Greg talked me into it, I'd be a rich man. It's embarrassing to admit, but the truth is, I have a hard time sayin' no to him."

"Dave's the same way with me," she snickered. "Like mother like gay son I guess. He knows how to use his feminine wiles to get what he wants from a man."

* * *

Handing his son a beer, Dave smiled and sat next to him on the green leather couch in his home office. "Let's see this bracelet your mother told me about." 

Unexpectedly nervous, Greg extended his left arm. "It's just your run of the mill souvenir hemp and cowrie shell bracelet, Dad. It's not really significant, I mean we're joking that we're engaged, but we're really not, I mean we're…apparently I don't know what I mean."

"Did it make you feel special when he tied it on you?"

Glancing down at his beer, the suddenly uncomfortable son nodded.

"Hey." Reaching out, Dave tousled his son's hair like he always did. "Are you embarrassed to talk about this with me?"

Greg shrugged and kept his eyes locked on the rim of his beer bottle. "I don't know, in the light of day it seems a little silly to talk about it with my hetero dad when I know you don't really get me wanting to be with a man in the first place. Not that I'm ungrateful of your support, I'm thrilled, it's just…weird."

"That's what I'm doing here…trying to get it. I want to get it." Dave smiled and nodded, "But I'll admit it is a little hard for me to wrap my head around two guys getting engaged."

"Join the club." Greg released all his tension in a laugh. "Nick's a traditional and superstitious guy, he wants to say we're engaged before we make any type of commitment to each other down the road. I know I want to be with him, so he can call it whatever he wants. But if you think about it, it's a little ridiculous, because we're engaged to not be allowed to be married, not that we'd get married if we could because we can't go public without getting shit from at least half of LVPD, Nick's family, and a good chunk society, so…do you get where I'm coming from? Convention is a little impractical to me, but I love the bracelet and the guy who gave it to me. Eventually, Nick will get used to the way things are and stop trying to fit into the conventional world, but until then, we can be gay guys living like a hetero couple if it makes him feel better."

"What you just said makes me sad actually."

"Why?" Greg finally lifted his gaze.

"Because getting engaged to your mother was one of the most exciting times of my life. I know it's hard to believe because she's such nutjob, but I was thrilled when I proposed and she said yes. I was proud to have her wearing the ring I worked two jobs to afford. Every time she showed it off, my heart soared. Partly because I was proud to have earned the money to buy something so nice, but mostly because this beautiful, intelligent, witty woman from a very good family was saying she couldn't wait to marry me…a poor kid from Bakersfield raised by deadbeat parents who had been told all his life that he'd never amount to anything. It made me feel very special. It's sad that two guys in love are prevented from experiencing those feelings when they want to take a more traditional approach to their relationship."

Greg nudged his father and chuckled, "You really were paying attention at that PFLAG meeting, weren't you?"

"You know me, I'm an overachiever. If I'm going to be a PFLAG dad, I'm going to be the best damn one they ever had." Fiddling with the bracelet on his son's wrist he said, "You know, if Nick's an insecure old fashioned guy in a brand new unconventional world, maybe he doesn't really need an engagement, what he needs is a quick reminder of your commitment. Maybe every time he gets unsure, he looks over sees you wearing his bracelet and he calms down. I would think it would be very scary to come out and put all your trust in one person, even if that person has been your friend for years and your roommate." Dave winked. "I bet if you show the bracelet to someone while Nick's around, he'll get a rush just like I did when your mother showed off her ring."

"Yeah, I think you're right. I did show it to this couple we met shooting pool and then at the day spa to the massage therapists. Nick was psyched."

"So, why do you like wearing it and showing it off if you're so unconventional?

"Duh!" Greg laughed, "Oh, sorry, I forgot that you're hetero. Allow me to explain…it's because my fiancé is sex on a stick, Dave. Ten out of ten gay men polled said they'd drop to their knees for him any day, but he's mine, all mine. Yee haw! God bless Texas, because all they turn out are steers and queers and I got myself the cream of the crop." The proud son clinked his beer bottle against his stunned, but smiling father's. "You really are trying to roll with your son being gay. Thanks for not looking nauseous, Dad."

"Hey, I've always wanted nothing but the best for you, son, so if you're gay, it stands to reason that I'd want you to have a stud for a boyfriend."

"Ooh, that reminds me. We pilfered the last of your Levitra on board The Freyja."

"Why would two thirty-somethings need Levitra?"

"Did you see the book that Jan bought us?" Greg collapsed against the cushions. "So much to try and so little time…we had to do something to fit it all in."

"Fit it all in, very cute." Dave struggled not to look nauseous. "See, I'm even making jokes."

"Ha! I didn't even think of it that way." Greg shook his finger. "You're a real perv, Dave."

"You should have been at the PFLAG meeting, one of the women suggested that your mother buy a strap on to use on me, so I could speak with knowledge instead of passing judgment based on assumptions. Then I got called a hypocrite for having backdoor sex with women, but thinking that my son is too good to be violated."

"Sounds like a tough crowd."

"I'll say that your mother fit right in and leave it at that."

"Wow, now I really appreciate you going for me."

"Now you know how much I love you." Dave took a gulp of beer and then quietly said, "I went because I wanted someone to tell me something that would make me feel better about you being Nick's…"

"Bitch?"

Dave covered his face and laughed, "For lack of a better word, yes."

"Please don't worry." Greg pushed past his discomfort to share, "It's a common misconception that only the top is getting pleasure in bed when guys are having sex, but that couldn't be further from the truth. I've been a top with women, and I didn't enjoy it half as much as being on the receiving end. It's also commonly believed that the top holds all the power because they're in the dominant position, but that's not necessarily the case. Nick was my bitch. I called the shots and he did my bidding all week, not that he minded. We have a very healthy, normal relationship and I'm very happy." He patted his father's shoulder. "I think that's just enough information for you not to worry without making you feel nauseous. Am I right?"

After sharply clearing his throat, Dave said, "Yes, thank you. That's…it's perfect. Let's consider this conversation the starting point of a new level of closeness between us and leave it right there for now. We should go rescue Nick from your mother anyway."

"You're assuming he hasn't already run from the house screaming and is racing back to Vegas to change the locks on our front door."

* * *

Walking out of Petsmart with two carts full of supplies, a receipt for $856.12 and the realization that a dog would be an ongoing expense, Gil was starting to think a diamond ring would have been better. Then he saw the smile on Sara's face as she held Bruno's leash with one hand and pushed a cart with the other. "Happy?" 

"Yeah. It's a little more work than we thought though, huh?"

"I guess parenthood always is. Only in the beginning though, I'm sure it gets - uh oh." Gil froze.

"What?" Sara studied the surprised expression on her man's face. "What's wrong?"

"Hodges," Gil answered under his breath. "Coming right at us."

"Fancy meeting you here!" The lab rat walked forward grinning. "Exactly why are the two of you here…together…on a Saturday afternoon when you're not working?" From time to time he had suspected something was going on between the two of them, but then Grissom always did something that made him think otherwise. "Hmm?"

"I was shopping with my new dog," Sara explained. "I just adopted him."

Holding up his jar of Madagascars, Gil took over, "And I was here rewarding my prize winning cockroaches with a new habitat when I ran into Sara, whose cart was overflowing. I volunteered to put some of her things in my cart and I'm helping her out to her car like any gentlemen would." Feeling pretty smug, he grinned, "Sorry to disappoint your dirty little mind, Hodges, but there's nothing going on between CSI Sidle and myself."

"Yeah," Sara belly laughed, "he's so not my type. He's fourteen years my senior, I like dating guys my own age." She glanced over at Gil. "No offense, boss."

"None taken," Gil droned.

Hodges smirked, "I guess you're not dating Sanders then either, because mentally he's twelve."

"What brings you here?" Sara queried, changing the subject.

_Ah ha! She deflected my Sanders comment._ "I need mice for my Boa." Hodges cleared his throat and puffed out his chest. "I have a big date tonight and I like to feed my Boa a mouse while the lady watches. It's a macho thing. Chicks dig it."

Sara successfully held back her laughter. "Well, I'd love to stand here and chat, but I need to get Bruno home and settled. I'll see you at work tomorrow night, Hodges."

Before saying goodbye, Hodges asked, "Have you heard from Nick? The rumor mill is really churning back at the lab. I heard he's moved back to Dallas and won't be returning to LVPD."

Gil snipped, "I assure you that's not the case. Nick is doing just fine and he'll be back at work in a few weeks. He's away enjoying a little mandated R&R."

* * *

Standing in the kitchen window, Dave peered into the backyard where his son and Nick were relaxing in a hammock. "They really do seem happy, don't they, honey?" 

"Absolutely," Jan answered while sautéing shrimp. "And Nicky is so much calmer than he was in Long Beach. Whatever Greg did the past five days, apparently worked miracles."

Thinking of his depleted Levitra supply, the slightly disturbed father changed the subject, "I hope they do okay when they return to Vegas. Before finding out that my son was gay, I didn't really think about how difficult it is for gay men in this country, but Greg said they'll live in fear of being outed, because they'd be harassed on the job. Not that it matters, because Nevada doesn't even have any protection laws for partners, so they couldn't be a legal couple even if they were to come out."

"As long as our country is run by Bible-Thumpers, we'll be behind the rest of the civilized world. The UK, Canada, and most of Europe all have something in place for gay couples, it's ridiculous that the supposed Land of the Free doesn't."

"I told him if things ever got too rough or depressing for them, they could always relocate here and we'd help them get started in the city with our connections. Or I suggested they could go and live in the Maui house for a while and try to make a go of it there. At least Hawaii and California allow domestic partnerships."

"I'll support anything that gets Greg out of the field. I'm sure he could get a top paying job in the bay area, and…"

"Honey, you know he's following his dream and we agreed to support his decision to work in the field. Support means we don't bitch at him every time…"

"I know, I know." Jan bit her tongue and turned off the stove. "Dinner's ready, so call the boys inside."

"This reminds me of when Greg was a kid and he'd have a buddy stay for dinner." Just as he was about to move from the window, he saw the two men gravitate into a lusty kiss. "Except for the kissing, that never used to happen."

"Wrong." Grinning, Jan removed her apron. "I've recently learned that there were some hot and heavy homosexual makeout sessions on our couch when Gregory was in high school. That's how clueless we were back then."

"Not with anyone I knew though, right?"

"Carson Pillard."

"Nooooo. Really?" Dave was stunned. "The jock Greg was tutoring?"

"He taught the boy more than Algebra apparently."

"Wow, color me surprised." He opened the backdoor. "Get a room, you two!" He chuckled and waved the two busted men inside. "Fajitas are ready!"

When her son and his lover entered the kitchen, Jan launched the joke she had been waiting to say, "Wash your hands, boys, because who knows where your fingers have been." She was the only one who burst out laughing. "Oh come on, that was hilarious and you know it!"

"Jeeeez, there's a lot more to our relationship than sex, mother." Greg huffed over to the sink to wash the hands he had used to pleasure Nick when they were engaging in a little role play behind a backyard tree. He had convinced his uptight lover, who admitted he had never incorporated role play into his sex life before, to pretend they were schoolmates who were fooling around during an after school study session and trying not to get caught. "On the Freyja, we read poetry to each other and discussed politics and environmental issues too."

"You tell her, G." Not recalling a line of poetry or minute of politic or environmental debate, Nick joined his partner at the sink chuckling. "We watched lots of movies too." _While we were recovering from sexual exertion._ "Poltergeist was one of 'em, it gave me the creeps just like it did when I was a kid." After breathing deep he said, "Wow, dinner smells fantastic, ma'am. I love fajitas."

"That's why I made them."

Greg pecked his mother's cheek, "Thanks for making them like I asked you too."

Dave held up a bottle of White Star. "This is my contribution. I thought it would be nice to celebrate with your favorite bubbly, son."

"Just one glass," Nick said, "we got four hours of drivin' ahead of us."

"I love how responsible you are, Nicky." Jan squeezed the man's face with her hand. "Keep that up."

Dave filled the four flutes he had waiting on the island. "Take a glass." He raised his. "To Nick and Greg…" The contented father smiled when he saw his jock son-in-law put his arm around his boy's shoulders and grin. "Congratulations on your new beginning/engagement/future together. Labels really aren't important, it's the love between two people that matters and it's quite obvious that there is plenty of love between the two of you. I wish you the best in the future, and I wish I could make things easier for you, but wherever you are, whatever obstacles you may encounter, please know that you have two people in your corner." He pulled his teary-eyed wife close. "Life has just begun for you as a couple. Enjoy every day, because they go by fast. Here's to Happily Ever After, I've got mine, may you find yours."

"To Happily Ever After," they cheered together while clinking glasses.

"That was real nice, Dad." Greg hugged his father. "Thanks."

"Okay, okay." Jan flicked her tears and hurried to the table so she wouldn't get overly emotional. "Let's eat!"

* * *

While pouring pasta in a large pot of boiling water, Hodges continued his four-way conversation on his speakerphone. "Guess who I saw at Petsmart **together?**" 

Mandy was the first to respond, "Warrick Brown and Catherine Willows! I heard through the geek grapevine that she caused his divorce."

Hodges snickered, "While I do believe you are correct about the divorce and while I'm certain the two of them are doing the horizontal mambo, I didn't see them at Petsmart today."

"Ecklie and Vartann," Archie guessed. "Ever since they got chummy while working the case of the disappearing DB together, I've had my suspicions."

"Eww!" Mandy shrieked into the phone. "Not that there's anything wrong with being gay, Henry."

"I'm not gay!" Henry shrilled in defense of his sexuality. "Not that there's anything wrong with being gay. I'm just not lucky with the ladies, at least not ladies under the age of sixty. I can get any one of my mother's friends. Some of those Florida retirees were left a lot of money when their husbands died. I'm seriously considering a new career as a Boca Boy Toy. I have two offers on the table as a matter of fact."

"Focus, people!" Hodges reminded his groupies. "No, it wasn't Ecklie and Vartann. They're both too crabby to be getting laid on a regular basis."

"Like you, Davy?" Wendy snarked.

"Who invited her?!" Hodges blasted. "I didn't even know she was on the phone."

"She's at my house," Mandy explained.

"Are you girls naked?" Archie asked while imagining them sitting by the pool slicking each other with sunscreen.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Wendy purred.

Annoyed that his four-way had become a five-way, Hodges refocused the discussion. "Two LVPD coworkers at Petsmart caught in a compromising position. Third guess may be a charm. Anyone?"

"Stokes and Sanders," Wendy posited. "They're waaaaay more than roommates."

"Stokes?!" Hodges burst out laughing. "Nick Stokes is a ladies man. He's slept with half the showgirls in Vegas. I think someone is just saying he's gay because that certain someone couldn't get him to sleep with her."

Archie had to concur, "I heard Nick's dying confession on tape and there wasn't any indication of him being gay."

"Stokes is totally gay!" Wendy stood by her guess. "Those showgirls are beards. He's gay with a capital G. Not that there's anything wrong with being gay, Henry."

"I'm not gay!" Henry spat. "I'm just a Mama's Boy, okay?! A slightly effeminate, exceedingly neat Mama's Boy who has a fondness for showtunes and the arts because his mother smothered him with both when he was a boy. If you don't believe me, I'll be more than happy to come over and prove it the old fashioned way, ladies."

"On second thought, maybe I am gay," Archie laughed. "I should come over too. I'll have a three-way with you girls to test myself. Whose house are you at?"

Hodges sighed into the phone, "Doesn't anyone care that Grissom and Sara were at Petsmart with their dog?"

"Grissom and Sara!" the foursome replied in unison.

"Wait a minute, I thought he was into Lady Heather," Archie said, not believing it for a minute.

"How do you know they were together-together?" Henry inquired. "Poor Greg will be crushed if it's true, he has a big time crush on her."

"I'd go out with Greg any day," Mandy sighed, "but he never asks. No one asks."

"I've asked you!" Henry reminded her.

"Yeah, but I thought you were asking me to be your beard."

"I'm not gay!"

Hodges yelled, "Grissom and Sara, people! They said they met at Petsmart by chance. Grissom told me that he was just helping Sara to her car, but then I busted them!"

"You saw them kiss?" Mandy excitedly asked, "Tongue or no tongue?"

"They didn't kiss."

"He squeezed her ass, didn't he?" Archie queried with a snicker. "Or did he lick her shoes? Grissom's a big time perv, I know he is. He's too into freaky people to not be one himself."

Hodges confirmed, "No ass grabbing or shoe licking was observed."

"Grissom is a gentleman," Henry corrected. "I bet he was holding her hand, right?"

"Thank you for playing, but you're all incorrect! For your consolation prize, you get…the steamy hot truth." Hodges stirred the hot pot of spaghetti and shared, "I stood inside Petsmart watching them the whole time. After circling the parking lot with their carts, presumably to throw me off their trail, Grissom loaded everything in** his** car, not Sara's, and then," he gave a drum roll, "they drove away **together**, even though they said they had met there **by chance**."

"Maybe her car wouldn't start," Wendy stated, not convinced they were truly a couple.

"Which part of 'I was watching them the whole time' didn't you understand?!" Hodges shot her down. "What's it going to take, DNA girl? Swabs of their exchanged spit?"

"Photo evidence works for me," Archie stated, having a fondness for A/V proof. "A picture is worth a thousand words."

* * *

After a g-rated kiss for Jan's digital camera, Nick and Greg waved and climbed into the truck for their return home. 

"Thanks again for everything!" Greg knew the drill, "I'll call you when we we're home safe, Mom."

"Okay, Sweetie!" Jan blew kisses. "I love you!" Clutching her camera, she ran for the house. "I can't wait to upload these to my MySpace account, so Peggy and Lynn can see how our boy hit the stud jackpot!"

* * *

"Aren't we lucky," Sara informed Bruno as she walked him down the street. "We both lost our first homes, but have come to live in a wonderful place with a loving man." 

The dog wagged his tail and followed along, happy for the one-on-one attention.

"Good boy!" she rewarded him with a pat when he didn't pass gas for five minutes. "You're calming down already."

* * *

As soon as he merged onto the freeway, Nick confessed, "Shit, just pointin' my truck in the direction of Vegas got me tense." 

Greg rolled down the window. "Okay, let it rip."

"Shut up, smart ass." Nick used the driver's controls to close the windows and then engaged the parental lock feature so his partner couldn't open them for the rest of the trip. "Take that!"

"Refried beans was a bad side dish choice at dinner." Greg crashed back against the leather seat. "This is going to be the longest and smelliest four hours of my life."

"Aww, maybe this'll make it better for ya." The Texan pulled a Rascal Flatts CD from his collection.

"No! No! Not hick music!" Greg feigned a seizure.

"Hey!" Nick quietly said, "I'm playin' this for a reason, so shut your pie hole and listen up, you unromantic twit."

"Sorry, Cletus." Greg settled down to listen to the tune.

"It's called Where You Are," Nick shared. "I'm playin' it to say that I was nowhere before I was with you, G."

The grateful boyfriend lunged to kiss the driver's cheek. "I love you, and I'm all ears." By the time the chorus started, he was wearing a huge grin. The sentiments were beautiful. '_Your love lifts me up', 'All that I want is to be is where you are'. _"Thank you for playing this for me." He dispensed another kiss and kept listening.

--

Standing in front of the townhouse, Sara held onto Bruno's leash and counted her blessings. The lonely girl from Tamales Bay finally had the things she had been secretly craving for years…a home and a family. As she glanced down at the dog that was rounding out her fantasy, the pooch released an unruly fart.

The dog immediately offered a canine apology - a tail wag accompanied by a pitiful glance.

"Don't worry." Sara bent down and scratched his head. "It's going to take a lot more to get rid of me than flatulence. My boyfriend keeps roaches as pets. I have a high tolerance for quirky boys."

--

Grissom stood in the living room window sporting a goofy grin as he watched the love of his life talking to their undividable dog on the front lawn. The lonely guy who had been afraid to take a chance on love for years finally had the things he had been secretly craving…a woman who loved him, understood him, and tolerated his quirks. It was exactly how he always imagined love would be. As nervous as he was about the future, he couldn't wait to see what it would bring.

--

When the song ended, Greg reached to turn the volume down. "I can't think of a place I'd rather be, Cletus, than where you are." He stared at the open road ahead of them. "No matter where this leads, you can absolutely count on one thing - I'm along for the ride."

"Good to know," the sentimental cowboy choked out as he reached over and squeezed the hand of the man he loved with all his heart. "Good to know."

**The End **

**(But it's really just the beginning, isn't it?)**

Being on vacation is a lot like living a dream, but everyone has to come home and wake up eventually.

For these two couples, real life will be full of drama, romance and comedy.

Is their love up to the challenge of reality?

**Find out when the story continues in my next story…**

**The Day Before You**** (already in progress - no waiting!) **

**Thank you for reading, **

**Maggs and KJT **

**

* * *

****ANs: **

I hope you enjoyed my homage to the Lab Rats episode, and of course, the conclusion of this first part of the story. I would love to hear your comments on the story now that it is complete :)

A huge **thank you** to KJT for her dedicated editing service and to my husband, Sheeny, Veronica 10, and Tanya for their help along the way when KJT was on the move!

**Maggs**


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